The Inside Scoop
by Oz1
Summary: When Hermione is recruited by Harry and Ron to snoop around Lucius Malfoy's house her break seems ruined. But as emotions surface and the dangers get more frequent, she must use all her courage and wits to survive the adventure approaching. COMPLETE
1. Malfoy's Welcome

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other characters were created by J.K Rowling and were not created by this author. However, the author must point out that if by any chance Ron Weasley is found in the trunk of her car, he went there himself. I swear.I mean HE swears! A/N: Yay! My first fan fiction! Please read and review! I know they summery sounded cheesy, but it's better than that. Really! Special thanks to Flexi Lexi for all her cool inspiration. Same to Omlette du Fromage.  
  
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"Oh god, spare us the details." Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked back to Hogwarts after spending a particularly extraordinary day at the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"No! No! I'm serious!" Ron was practically skipping as he related, for what seemed the 20th time, his date with Padma. "I never knew until now that she had-"  
  
"Ron, please," Hermione sighed. "This topic has been exhausted long ago. Could we talk about something else. Anything else?" Ron's face fell and he looked over at Harry for support.  
  
"Hermione, why don't we let him bask in his glory for a few more minutes?" Harry slapped Ron on the back, sending him temporarily off balance. "The man's just had his first date. Let him rub it in a bit more."  
  
Hermione nodded, trying to hold back the ever-increasing throb in her head.  
  
The shone shone brightly as they walked across the wind swept grounds to the castle. Summer, while refreshing, hadn't stopped Hermione from looking forward to her return to Hogwarts. She found things strangely..normal in her first weeks back. One would think that with the return of Voldemort things would be a little more hectic. But no, it was all the same...calm and bordering on dull.  
  
That is until Ron hit a certain milestone in his life..  
  
It wasn't that she wasn't happy for Ron. She was glad at least someone she knew was in a normal relationship. Harry certainly wasn't having any luck. Since the ending of last year, Harry hadn't really been himself. She could understand partially, what with being nearly killed for the 6th time in his life. His infatuation with Cho had worn off as well and not even Quidditch seemed to bring him the same joy as it once did. Hermione looked over at Harry, listening good-sportily to Ron. He seemed tired. He shot her an amused look as Ron took a breath in his story.  
  
Hermione looked back at her hands, which were clenched in front of her. She felt sorry for Harry. Being one of his best friends, she cared about how he felt.  
  
"And I swear my kiss was like the breath of life! I could cure blindness with my mad skill!" Ron's voice rang out across the grounds as they neared Hogwarts at last. "I half-expected to her to shout 'Hallelujah! Lord, I am saved!'" Heads turned and Ron's ears turned bright red.  
  
"Alright, Wonder Snog, let's tone it down a bit." Harry chuckled as Ron casually attempted to hide behind Harry from the stares of some passing Hufflepuff 2nd years. His head, however, showed majestically red over Harry's black hair.  
  
"Wonder Snog? Don't flatter him, Potter." They turned around to see Draco Malfoy and his usually cronies walking at a leisurely pace about five steps behind them. "Padma, Weasley? Shame. I guess you just couldn't afford any better."  
  
Ron ears, which where once red turned absolute crimson.  
  
"Why don't you show all of us your miracle snog, Weasel? Kiss Granger. It might shrink her hair a bit. Or her teeth."  
  
"If you want to talk about big Malfoy, let's start with your head." Hermione spat back. Malfoy had gotten particularly nasty these days. Maybe it was because of Harry's life long ban from Quidditch being removed. Maybe from the recent "D" he got in Transfiguration. She was sure that fact of his dad being in Azkaban didn't help either.  
  
"Keep your frizzy head out of this, you little Mudblood," Malfoy spat back. "You might find that your mouth has grown too big for your face one day." Malfoy smirked as they walked past them, bumping Harry's shoulder. Ron fumbled in his pocket for his wand, but Hermione grabbed his hand, shaking her head.  
  
"Don't. It's want he wants. Besides, a detention would ruin your day even more that he would." Ron's teeth clenched as the Slytherin shouts of "Hallelujah" reverberated across the grounds, but he finally let go of his wand. Harry took him by the shoulders and started to lead him back to the castle. "Why don't you tell me about Padma again? Did she ask you out for another date?" Hermione sighed as she pocketed Ron's wand. "I'll give it back to him later when he's cooled down a bit," she thought.  
  
She stared at Ron and Harry's retreating backs. The school year had hardly started and already they had had a row with Malfoy. She didn't know how much more of his jeering and taunting she could cope with. She was worried that it might be only a matter of time before Ron finally does something stupid.  
  
She sighed dramatically, her breath coming out like clouds in front of her face. It was growing cold. The grassed crackled with frost as she walked over the lawn to the castle. At least there was one thing she could look forward to this year: more time at the Burrow. Since the death of Sirius, the Order of the Pheonix had gone public. The ministry had finally swallowed their pride and admitted to Voldemort's return and this winter break, for safety, she and her family were spending the Christmas with Harry, Ron, and his family. Two weeks without the stress of school or the rumors of Voldemort. Two weeks without Malfoy.  
  
"Hallelujah," she breathed. 


	2. The Pardon

Disclaimer: I did not invent Harry Potter. Alas, I wish I did because I would be the coolest person on earth if I did. But no, I resort to writing fan fiction. Take that! WOOT!  
  
A/N: Ok, fan fiction.com is still a mystery to me, so excuse my amateruness...that's not even a word.see what I mean??!!  
  
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"Attention. Be quiet!"  
  
The Slytherin common room's usual ruckus lowered to a hush as all heads turned to listen to Severus Snape, who has just appeared at the door. Draco, who was lounging by the window pulling the legs off a hapless beetle, turned around and met Snape's cold glare with his own look of indifference. All heads turned to the pair and a few reached into their pocket to finger their wands nervously.  
  
The common room was unusually quiet except for the crackling of the fireplace. After a few moments, Draco calmly flicked the beetle into the flames, breaking the tension. The room exhaled simultaneously and went back to their study, talking and laughing nervously. Snape's eyes narrowed and he walked over to Draco, who ignore his approach.  
  
Snape leaned down to Draco's level and regarded him for a few moments. Draco inwardly sighed as he picked his teeth with the tip of his wand.  
  
"Why must Snape always make a scene? If he has something to tell me, tell me during potions or send me an owl. He sure isn't helping my image by having these 'stake outs' in the common room," Draco thought.  
  
Snape cleared his throat, forcing Draco back to current affairs.  
  
"I don't like bringing up sensitive subjects, Mister Malfoy, but your father, he-" Snape was cut off by Malfoy's ever so convenient yawn. Snape's fingers rapped on the cold tabletop, which had no effect what-so-ever on Draco, who ignored it as looked back out of the window. The firelight gleamed off of Draco's silver-blond hair, making an interesting contrast to Snapes black head. Snape sat in the silence. "If the boy doesn't want to hear the news, that's his problem. But I'm not getting blamed for not trying," he thought.  
  
Snape pushed himself up and turned around, black cloak billowing dramatically.  
  
"It's starting to snow." Draco's smooth voice said softly behind him. A spark of annoyance flamed up in Snape, but he turned around anyway, his smile forced.  
  
"You were always one for dramatics, weren't you Mister Malfoy?" Snape sneered. Malfoy smiled softly, watching the first white flakes of snow drift down past his window to settle on the grass below. Draco's fingers strayed to his sketch book, which lay beside him.  
  
Goyle and Crabbe, working vainly on their Herbology homework, looked up, hoping to be included in on the conversation. They were stupid, but not stupid enough to not recognize an obviously important conversation.  
  
"If you're done acting juvenile, I'd like to talk to you about the current state of your father." Draco, although listening, was attempting to sketch the glittering landscape below. Snape cleared his throat again, reminding Draco unpleasantly of Professor Umbridge. When it was apparent this was all the attention he'd get, Snape went on. "I know I can't relate to what you're feeling-"  
  
"Stop acting corny, Professor. Of course you can't relate. Besides, you were never good at being sentimental." His hand flew across the paper.  
  
Snape sighed and ran his fingers through his black hair. Why must the boy act so damn dense? "I'm not trying to comfort you, Mister Malfoy, I'm only trying to relate a bit of news to you that I thought might make your Christmas a bit more merry." Draco snorted, obviously disbelieving.  
  
"Your father has been pardoned."  
  
Draco's hand stopped on the paper and Crabbe choked, probably on his own the spit.  
  
Snape turned and gave both Crabbe and Goyle a glare that sent them both scurrying off to their dorms like frightened mice. When he turned again to Draco, he found the boy looking at him fixedly, his gray eyes shining with a strange and scary intelligence.  
  
"Well, don't go too overboard on the rejoicing." Snape sarcastically said, sitting down in Crabbe's vacant chair, sending up a cloud of dust.  
  
Draco had stopped listening to Snape a while ago. His heart was thumping like mad in his chest and his mouth had gone strangely dry. He could scarcely hold his pencil and the tree he had been sketching didn't look remotely like a tree anymore. His father was coming back. The ministry pardoned him, despite him being a death eater, despite the countless murders. Despite all the unforgivable sins his father had committed, he had been pardoned. He could see Snape's lips moving but all he could hear was a strange ringing.  
  
"Mister Malfoy? Mister Malfoy? DRACO!" Draco snapped back into reality and his pencil shattered under his hand. Snape looked at him in amazement. The boy looked terrified.  
  
"Did you hear a thing I just said?" Draco nodded dumbly, but then shook his head as he leaned over to pick up the pieces of his pencil. "Well then. If you had been paying any attention you would have heard that your father is being let out of Azkaban, but is on house arrest. He must also perform a charity for the ministry. He'll be taking in a muggle for the school holidays, you know, to let the public see he has no problem with non- wizards."  
  
Draco, who had been listening numbly to Snape, looked up at this.  
  
"A muggle? You mean a Mudblood in our house?" Snape's hands knotted together and his knuckles turned white, but he only smiled coldly.  
  
"Yes, you'll be having a muggle for Christmas. A muggle child. I'm sure it's a small sacrifice to pay for your father's innocence." With that, Snape pulled himself out of his chair and looked down at Draco. "See you tomorrow in class."  
  
Snape turned on his heels and strode out the now empty common room. He was a little unnerved at Draco's lack of emotion, but it wasn't his business. The boy had always been insensitive.  
  
Draco's eyes followed him out. He felt cold despite the warm fire. He was no longer in the mood for drawing. The serene beauty of the glittering landscape outside had lost its appeal. These were the times when he missed not having a best friend (or at least a best friend that could talk without drooling.)  
  
"What will mother say when she finds out that her husband is coming home?" he thought. "Everything was going uphill since Potter ratted on my dad. But now he's coming back, just in time for Christmas. And a Mudblood is staying at our house." His eyes closed and he tried to fight back the wave of panic rising in his chest. He closed his eyes tighter until spots appeared, black and blue and then exploding into a painful display of red and orange fireworks. His breathing slowed and he opened his eyes to the now hazy common room. It had grown dark outside and the only memory of the snow was Draco's abandoned sketch.  
  
Draco got to his feet and stared into the fireplace. The beetle was long gone by now. The flames leapt red hot and burning, but Draco shivered. The window wasn't open. 


	3. Attitude Adjustment

Disclaimer: The plot is mine..but that is all. That's all I own..except my soul....and not really that anymore..hee hee hee.  
  
A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers so far! My last chapter will contain individual "thank you"s, just so you all know. Thanks again!  
  
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At approximately six o'clock in the morning, Hermione awoke to the first rays on sunlight shining on her face. As she opened her eyes, a strange feeling of peace and serenity enveloped her and she lay there for a few moments, soaking in the sun. She sat up in bed and looked around the room. The room, although still dim, could be seen clearly in the morning light. Her classmate's bags could be seen packed and ready by each bed, ready for the long-awaited winter holidays. Careful not to make any noise, she slid out of her bed onto the cold floor and got dressed. If she knew Harry and Ron, and she did well enough, they be in the common room, finishing the potions essay for Professor Snape.  
  
She stole down the dormitory stairs into the common room, where the house- elves had just rekindled the fire. It had snowed during the night and the windows in the common room were covered in frost. She ran her palm over the glass, clearing a peek hole. The land lay white beneath her, almost unrecognizable from what it was yesterday. The sky was gray and the trees were laden with clumps of snow. She could see Filch out already sweeping a path from the front doors. His complaining and crazed mutterings were audible as well.  
  
The lake had frozen over and the ice was dusted over with a small covering of snow, soon to be swept away by eager ice-skaters. She went away from the window to the warmth of the fire and saw, not without amusement, Ron and Harry sitting asleep in some armchairs.  
  
Ron's paper was still on the table in front of him and his head lay rested on his arms. His brows were furrowed and it would have looked like he was thinking hard about what to write next if not for the drool that had accumulated under his mouth from sleeping. She pried the paper from under his elbows and read what he had of his essay:  
  
"The Viggenweld potion can only be made under certain circumstances. First of all, only a certain type of coldren, I mean, caldron, I mean cauldron...damn, it's late... "  
  
Hermione, silently laughing, shook Ron and Harry's shoulders to wake them up.  
  
"Five more minutes, mum." Ron murmured and turned over. Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes and looked at his watch.  
  
"Merlin's beard, how long have we been asleep! It's almost morning!" Hermione sat down next to him and gave him Ron's paper, which Harry read while Ron sat snoring.  
  
"This is all he has?" Harry said in disbelief. "Imagine not knowing how to spell 'Cauldron.'"  
  
"How about you?" Hermione asked. "How far along are you?"  
  
"Not very." Harry sighed and sat back with a dejected look. He handed Hermione his paper, which wasn't much better than Ron's. Hermione took up Harry's quill.  
  
"Go up and get some sleep. I can finish these. Consider it an early Christmas present." Harry, with a look of pure relief and gratitude, dragged Ron up the stairs to bed. Hermione sat with the quill in her hand, finishing up their essays. Usually, she would have been disappointed in the two, but it was the last day before winter break and she was willing to let it slide.  
  
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"I don't drool." Ron muttered under his breath as Professor Snape spoke to the class about the day's lesson. "I don't even sweat. I'm not a wet guy."  
  
Hermione's good mood wasn't spoiled even by Potions and as she listened to the absurd conversation going on beside her, she felt like nothing on earth could ruin her day.  
  
Fwap!  
  
A piece of rolled up parchment hit her forehead. "Granger, pass me the essence of Myld root." A greasy voice floated from the front of the class and Hermione looked up to Draco's malicious grin. Ron stopped the argument, which for the record, Harry was winning.  
  
"I believe you have some on your table, Malfoy." Hermione said, going back to her potion.  
  
Fwap!  
  
Giggles erupted from the front of the classroom as Draco's lazy voice spoke again.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm out." Hermione gritted her teeth and grabbed the bottle of Myld essence. She stalked up to the front of the classroom and banged it on the table in front of Draco. Some of the essence sloshed out onto the table.  
  
"Five points," said Professor Snape, not even looking up from his work. Ron stood up enraged, about to speak, but Harry pulled him back down, shaking his head.  
  
"Hermione can handle herself. And it's not like Draco can do much, even in front on Snape." Hermione came back and sat down heavily in her seat. The warm bubble she felt this morning had been popped. Popped by the person she was most looking forward to not seeing the holiday.  
  
"He's a prick. Don't let him get you down. In a few hours you'll be free of him. We'll look at this from the Burrow and laugh." Harry said. "I grabbed your copy of The Daily Prophet this morning. You're done with your potion anyway. Read it while Ron and I finish up our work." Hermione half- heartedly took The Daily Prophet Harry handed to her and glanced at the front page. It took a moment to register but when it did she jumped up so fast she spilled half her finished potion on the floor.  
  
"Five points."  
  
"Harry! Have you seen this?" Hermione gasped.  
  
Ron had walked over to help Neville, whose potion had started throbbing and emitting low shrieks. Harry looked away from the spectacle to the front page. Harry's eyes widened and he snatched the newspaper from Hermione.  
  
On the front cover was a picture of Lucius Malfoy, grinning devilishly. The headline read:  
  
"Lucius Malfoy Pardoned. Due to Work Charity for Ministry."  
  
Harry hands shook as he looked over at Draco, who was working on his potion with Pansy Parkinson. Now that he thought about it, Draco did look smug. "More than usual, I mean." He thought.  
  
Ron came over from Neville covered in what looked like orange jam. "We think it's starting to breath. He might as well name it and get it over with." Harry shoved the paper in Ron's face and Ron took it from him. He looked up in disbelief. "But how could they pardon him? You proved him guilty!  
  
"I don't know!" Harry looked at Hermione, who shrugged.  
  
"Well, what's his charity?" Ron asked. Hermione and Harry looked at each other and Hermione took the paper. Ron and Harry stared at her as she skimmed the article. She looked up at them almost hopelessly. "I don't think I quite understand it. He's apparently taking a Muggle in for the holidays." Ron and Harry leaned forward, reading where Hermione pointed. Her bubble had officially deflated.  
  
"It's like Adopt-a-Muggle!" Harry breathed, clenching his hands into tight balls.  
  
"You know he's only doing it to make it seem like he's changed." Hermione said, looking at the back of Draco's head. She wanted to hit it as hard as she could with a mallet, to swipe that smug grin off his face when he looked back at her.  
  
"It's sick!" Harry muttered.  
  
"It's perfect!" All eyes turned to Ron, who was staring at them with a strange glint in his eyes. "You realize that if Lucius messes this up, there's no way he can be pardoned again?" Ron lowered his voice and Harry and Hermione leaned closer to hear. "What are the chances that the Ministy will give him a third chance from being a death eater?  
  
"If he screws this up, then we can be sure he stays in Azkaban for good!"  
  
"Sorry for being dense, but what's your point?" Hermione said, voicing Harry's question as well.  
  
"We need someone on the inside, someone to find something to hold against him." Harry and Hermione looked at each other, each thinking the same thing: this boy is crazy. The orange jam has gone to his head.  
  
"First off, Ron," Harry said, "It'd need to be a muggle, which we don't have in a wizarding school. Second off, and no offense, this sounds like something out of book. It'd be impossible to pull off."  
  
Ron looked crestfallen, but then perked up. "What about Hermione?" Hermione, who had been reading the article more carefully, looked up to see Harry and Ron both looking at her.  
  
"What?" 


	4. Confrontation

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Seriously. I mean, you gotta believe me. I did not make us Harry Potter. I wish I had, but no, I didn't. I might just copy and past this so I don't have to type this everytime I add a chapter. Well, we'll see.  
  
A/N: I'm an updating maniac! Yes! Four chapters in three days! Woot woot! Party! Please read and review  
  
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"You want to WHAT Mrs. Granger?"  
  
Professors McGonagall's books slipped from her hands onto the hall floor will a dull echo. Hermione sighed and picked them up for her but the professor seemed too shocked to move her fingers when Hermione placed them in her hands. They simply slipped off again. Hermione let them lie and gave her full attention to McGonagall.  
  
"You must have misunderstood the Daily Prophet dear. The ministry is looking for a muggle. And I'm sure you wouldn't want to give up your holiday and spend it with the Malfoys." She spit the word out like it was poison. She was not one to play favorites, but she would like to meet a muggle, let alone a wizard, who could survive a week at the Malfoy's.  
  
Hermione's insides squirmed. She half wanted to agree with her, to pretend it was a joke, to have a good laugh and just forget about the whole thing. The last thing she wanted was to spend a weeks at the Malfoy manor. Hell, the reason she was looking forward to break was because it was a break from Malfoy.  
  
"No, Professor. I'm muggle born. I'm sure I would qualify." Hermione set her jaw and pushed the forbidding feelings in the pit of her stomach down. McGonagall stared at her disbelievingly for a few seconds, and then sighed as she bent down to pick up her books.  
  
"Well, I'll send an inquiry to the Ministry, but might I ask why you would want to spend your break at the Malfoy's?"  
  
"Move, Granger. Your hair is blocking the walkway." Draco came up from behind her and pushed her shoulder.  
  
"That'll be five points, Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall yelled at his retreating back. He simply winked at Hermione from behind his shoulder. McGonagall turned back to Hermione, cheeks pink and brows furrowed. Hermione had to use all of her will power not to shrink down a bit under McGonagall's glare. "I repeat, why in the name of magic would you want to spend any time with Draco?"  
  
Hermione smiled meekly. "I don't know."  
  
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"You owe me big!"  
  
Hermione was sitting on Ron's bed while he did some last minute packing. His quilt was on the floor and Pig was flying in circles around the room, screeching.  
  
"Get over here Pig!" Ron yelled at Pig, but the owl just hooted happily. "I mean it, you get over here or-"  
  
His words were cut off by the haphazard owl hitting the wall and sliding to the floor. "PIG!" Ron rushed over and cradled Pig in his hands. "Are you ok?!" Pig just hooted happily and zoomed off into the dormitory hallway, followed by a few crashes and the screams of "Manic owl! Run!" Ron sighed and turned towards Hermione, who was watching the spectacle with a pitied look.  
  
"You know, as much as I'm tired of this now, I'm sure going to miss it this summer." Hermione said. Ron gave an exasperated sigh and took Hermione by the shoulders.  
  
"Take one for the team, Hermione!" She rolled her eyes and tried to move out of his grasp, but his grip was strong. She was forced to look at him and when she did, she was surprised to find him laughing.  
  
"Stop it, Ron!" Ron only shook his head, laughing harder. Hermione pulled herself out of his hands and faced him, hands on hips. This only amused Ron more and he was forced to support himself on his bed post. "What is it? Does my position amuse you? That I have to spend Christmas with The Adams Family!"  
  
"The Who?" gasped Ron, wiping tears from his eyes. Hermione lay down on the bed and covered her face with the pillow. She wanted to hit Ron. Hard. In the face. With a bat. Ron, who still hadn't quite gotten a hold on himself, sat down next to her on the bed.  
  
"I didn't mean.mfff..to makemmmffff..FUN..mmfffffffha ha ha ha..mfff.of you Hermione. I just...mfffffff-" Hermione tackled Ron with the pillow, muffling the sound of his laughter. She pulled herself off the bed, dodging the flying pillow Ron launched at her. "Where are you.mffff..going?"  
  
Hermione turned around, and something in her eyes made Ron's cut his laughter short.  
  
"I have to go pack for my "holiday." I'll see you a couple of weeks." Hermione turned and walked down the stairs the common room. But she felt suddenly like she didn't want to be in a room full of people. People talking excitedly about their winter holidays.  
  
Instead, Hermione walked right past where Harry was sitting and headed towards the exit. she opened the portrait hole and ran smack into-Draco.  
  
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, a look of disgust filling her face. Draco, who was knocked down, fought back a wave of anger. It's not like he wanted to be here with a Mudblood. She had messed up his hair and he had bit his lip going down. He was not in a good mood. He jumped up and approached Hermione, who was pushing the portrait back. When she turned around, his face was inches from hers. She sucked in a breath.  
  
Draco grinned. "Let's see how long I can draw this out," he thought.  
  
Hermione frowned and pushed him out of the way. Malfoy, pushing his silver hair back out of his face, ran to catch up with her quick strides.  
  
"Where're you going?" Hermione turned a corner sharply, throwing Draco temporarily off balance. He spurred up and cut in front of her, once again blocking her way.  
  
Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling. The last thing she needed right now was Draco, Especially a Draco dead intent on making this confrontation as painful as he could.  
  
"I got a message from the Ministry that you're going to be our foster Mudblood. How quaint." This was Draco's only joy. He enjoyed lording over people and he could feel his power over her at that moment. It was only curiosity that kept him from going further.  
  
"Are you done being a prick? Can I go now?" Hermione attempted to get by but was blocked by Draco's arm. She pulled back with an exasperated sigh as Draco regarded her coolly.  
  
"Why did you offer to come to my house?" Hermione stiffened. She hadn't thought about this part. What was her excuse? Draco was obviously going nowhere, so she couldn't stall.  
  
"Uh."  
  
"Oh, I can't wait to hear this." He decided to make it hard for her, to drag it on. "Is it my good looks? My charm? Doing some undercover work for Potter?"  
  
Hermione swallowed, breathing hard. Lying was never her strong suit. "I..thought it might be a good chance for us to work things out." Draco's eye brows rose. He's not buying it, she thought. "I mean to better understand each other."  
  
She must be kidding, he thought. Not only is she lying, but she's doing is badly.  
  
"And you propose to start by calling me a prick?" Draco snorted. "You're a terrible liar. Even Longbottom would see though it." Hermione stayed silent. Draco sighed and moved aside. "Mother's picking us up from King's Cross. Meet me at the barrier right after the train leaves and don't be late." Hermione looked up.  
  
"I heard your father was coming home? Are you eager to see him back or something?"  
  
A shadow passed in front of Draco's face, but he only straightened his chin and leaned against the gray stone nonchalantly.  
  
"He gets home later that night. I just don't want to be kept waiting by a Mudblood." He started to inspect his nails. "It lowers me."  
  
"Well, I understand the instructions, your highness," Hermione said, dripping with sarcasm. "Can I do anything for you before I leave? Peel some grapes, perhaps?" Hermione snorted and pushed past Draco's bulk.  
  
Draco watched her as she rushed away. In the moonlight, she looked almost pretty. But then again, Goyle could look decent in the right lighting. Well, almost. Even with the looming thought of his father coming home, he would at least have some amusement over vacation. 


	5. Malfoy Manor

Dsiclaimer: I own nothing..  
  
A/N: Thanks all for reading and reviewing so far! I'm having so much fun with this story! Thanks to Flexi Lexi for her THREE reviews. She makes me feel special. ;-)  
  
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The ride to King's Cross Station was relatively quiet. Ron and Harry sat opposite Hermione in their compartment, occasionally exchanging tentative glances at each other. Hermione's attitude had really hit them hard. Not only was her vocabulary reduced to one word responses, but she refused to make eye-contact with either of them. The only reason she was even in their compartment was that everywhere else was full except for with Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevy, and that just spoke for itself.  
  
Hermione could not help feeling sorry for herself. She knew she was acting immature, but she hadn't heard Ron or Harry give her any words of recognition for her sacrifice. And yes, she considered it a major sacrifice. Probably the biggest since Joan of Ark. "I'll probably end up hearing voices too by the end of the week," she thought.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron said hesitantly. Hermione turned further away and concentrated hard on the rolling hills passing her window. "How long can you ignore me?"  
  
"Try me," Hermione replied calmly. Ron sighed and sat back. "She's hopeless," he thought. He looked over at Harry, who mouthed, "Just let it lie."  
  
As the train pulled up to the platform and the students jumped up to collect their things, Hermione stayed back. She would have liked to ride the train back and forth forever than to go out and face Draco. She seriously considered it for a moment.  
  
Ron took up Pig and started out. "Are you coming, Harry?"  
  
"In a moment," Harry replied, waving him on.  
  
"Have a good break, Hermione," Ron said, walking backwards out of the compartment.  
  
Hermione snorted and sarcastically gave him a "thumbs-up." As Ron disappeared out of the train, with far too many looks over his shoulder, Harry sat down next to Hermione and took her hand.  
  
"I know you're mad at us for putting you through this, but you have to understand that you're the only person we have to do the job, the only person who could pull it off. And you did agree to it," he said softly.  
  
Hermione looked at Harry as he said these words and suddenly felt foolish and stupid for the way she acted. Harry smiled and fondly wiped a tear from her cheek.  
  
"You know we wouldn't put you in any danger if we though you couldn't handle it. And this is your chance to give Malfoy what he's been asking for. If you have any trouble, you know where we'll be. And I want you to use this." Harry reached down and pulled something from his bag.  
  
"Harry, what is-" Harry's invisibility cloak flowed onto her lap. Hermione ran her hands over the smooth, cool material.  
  
"It might help,"  
  
Hermione folded it and put it at the bottom of her bag. She stood up, straightening her robes and wiping a stray tear from her face. Harry stood up with her. Her took her by the shoulders and searched her face.  
  
"You okay?" Hermione smiled and nodded. Harry grinned and pulled her into a hug. Hermione gripped Harry tight, savoring the feel of his shirt on her cheek, the smell of cider wood that never quite left him. "I'm not going to get a lot of this at the Malfoys'," she thought.  
  
They pulled out of their embrace and stepped off the train together. Ron was waiting by the barrier, trying vainly to calm Pig down. The little owl was hooting excitedly and gnawing the bars of the cage. Ron looked up as Hermione and Harry approached.  
  
"He won't shut up! Ow!" He looked in shock at his finger. "The little devil bit me! It bit me! I'm bleeding!" Ron angrily threw his sweater over the cage, hoping to both muffle the sounds and trick him into sleeping. The platform had almost emptied.  
  
"Are you coming, Hermione?" Ron asked, still trying to quiet the half- crazed owl.  
  
"No, I have to wait for Malfoy," Hermione said.  
  
They heard a horn screech, sending pig off again, and turned around to see the train leave the station. The platform was momentarily filled with smoke and Hermione had to strain her eyes to see even her hand in front of her face. Through the smoke, she could see the outline of Draco approaching, wheeling his trunk in front of him.  
  
Draco looked at the barrier and saw Hermione waiting. "Excellent, I made her wait," he thought. But then he saw Ron and Harry standing beside her with the worst looks on their faces. He cursed inwardly. Don't they go anywhere alone? It's like the three Muggle-teers. He got to Hermione and innocently looked around at the group.  
  
"Here to see us off, Potter? How nice of you. Of course, I think we can handle ourselves. Don't think we're going to meet any Deatheaters on the way out of the train station."  
  
"But isn't your father was picking you up?" Harry asked in a low voice.  
  
Draco sent him a look of pure venom, but Harry held his ground.  
  
"No, in fact we're taking a taxi. Mother couldn't make it. She's preparing the party for father," he said, turning to Hermione, who only nodded. Draco looked back at Ron and smiled, "Are you taking that flying wreck of car again? That was brilliant, by the way, crashing into that tree. Was that on purpose or were you too poor to afford gas?"  
  
"That was three years ago!" Ron said vehemently, ears turning bright red. Harry coughed, reminding him to keep calm.  
  
"Follow me and try to keep up," Draco said to Hermione as he walked through the barrier.  
  
"You don't talk to her like that, you pernicious little-" Ron started, but Hermione pulled him back and shook her head. But Ron seemed very keen on dragging it out as much as he could and it took both Harry and Hermione to restrain him from following Draco. But in all truth, she wanted to let Ron go. If it wasn't for the deal with her friends, she would be one pinning Draco to the ground and breaking his nose. The image made her smile for a moment.  
  
Hermione turned to her friends. Draco's rebuke had changed her attitude a bit. Whatever he had hidden, she'd find it and rub it in his face. She grinned at the two. "See you in a couple of weeks,"  
  
With that she turned into the barrier.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was waiting outside the barrier when she appeared.  
  
"Ready?" Hermione nodded. He turned from her and started made his way through the crowds outside the station with Hermione following behind. They passed the Weasley's, who looked at her strangely as she passed. George and Fred, who had come to pick up Ron, stared at her in amazement. Mrs. Weasley was about to yell out when Ron and Harry walked up.  
  
"No, mum. You'll see later," Ron said to his mother. She closed her mouth but kept her eyes on Hermione and Draco as they flagged a taxi. A taxi drove up and Draco opened the door for Hermione, grinning widely.  
  
He bowed. "Mudbloods first."  
  
Hermione just smiled and stepped past him into the taxi, grinding her heel into his foot.  
  
"Oh, oops. So sorry!" Hermione said innocently. Draco forced a smile and slammed the taxi door. As he limped around to the other side of taxi, he could hear the driver sniggering.  
  
He sat down beside Hermione in the taxi. "Driver, Berkshire. Malfoy Manor."  
  
Both Hermione and Draco were thrown to the back of their seats as the taxi sped off dangerously through the traffic. After getting their bearing back, Hermione went to her window. Draco sat looking at his new guest  
  
It was final. It hadn't felt real until now on the way to his house. Hermione Granger, his mortal enemy second to Harry, was staying at his house for two weeks. It was wrong and disturbing. He couldn't help but wonder how the ministry agreed to let it happen. "Then again," he thought, "it's not like they know what she is to me."  
  
This question made him pause. He looked over to Hermione, who was petting Crookshanks in his basket. "What does she mean to me? I mean, besides the obvious: an annoying prat. But oddly enough, I'm not altogether disappointed that she's coming to stay with us," he thought as London disappeared behind them.  
  
Draco frowned. "Why all of a sudden this big change of feeling? What could have brought it on? I'm probably just dehydrated," he thought as he got out his sketchbook.  
  
The taxi eventually drove up to the Malfoy Manor and stopped. Hermione looked out the window at the grim house that lay before her. It was made out of gray brick, covered in dark mold and ivy. The effect was that it looked almost black. The black iron gates leading to the house were covered in frost. There were no lights on inside the house or outside. The trees were bare and she shivered when she saw them. They reminded her of grasping hands, hands reaching to grab her with spindly fingers. Leaves lay over the ground as thick as a carpet and she noticed that the wind was weirdly still. The sky, which had been blue at the station, was a dismal gray with no clouds. It looked like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted. She was startled by the door opening and Draco standing before her with their trunks.  
  
"Want to stay in the car? Not that I mind, but I don't think the driver would appreciate having a strange girl haunting his back seat."  
  
Hermione muttered thanks to the driver and stepped out. The air was cold and dry. The taxi drove off, leaving Hermione and Draco standing outside the gates. Draco and Hermione pushed their trunks through the gates and up the walk. Draco went up to the door and fumbled for the keys in his pocket.  
  
Suddenly a gust of wind, the first breath of wind since they arrived, hit Hermione and Draco like a cold blast of water. Hermione's hair blew into her face and Draco dropped his keys. His sketchbook fell from on top of his trunk and lay open, the wind turning the pages like a ghost. As Draco got down on his hands and knees, looking for the keys, Hermione reached down and picked up his sketchbook. To her surprise and somewhat delight, she opened to a drawing of herself. She was looking out of the window of the taxi. The detail was exquisite, every hair defined, every curl called for.  
  
The book was snatched out her hands. Draco silently put it back on his trunk and started to open the door. Hermione stopped his hand on the knob.  
  
Her hand is warm, he thought as he looked up.  
  
"You draw?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Just some stupid sketches. I get bored easily," Draco muttered. He turned the knob to his house and entered the dark house with his trunk. Hermione, after looking behind her once again at the forbidding gates, pushed her trunk into the hallway after Draco. 


	6. Awkward Teens

Disclaimer: I own the plot only..oh, and Maurel.oh, you'll see!  
  
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Hermione squinted into the dark as Draco lit a lamp to light the dim hallway. As the light flared up she had a full view of the front hallway. One word could overall describe it: frilly. Hermione put her hand over her mouth, hiding a smile. It was like Return of the Umbridge. Her feet were standing on a long Persian rig covering the hardwood floor of the hall. The wallpaper was silver gilt, which looked bizarre in such a gloomy house. The walls were lined with portraits of the Malfoy relatives, who were all giving her relatively dirty looks and whispering to each other. Even with the light on, the house seemed to hang in shadow. Hermione moved a little closer to Draco.  
  
"It's...cozy."  
  
Draco looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see Hermione looking around fearfully. He grimaced a bit and moved farther off to light the rest of the lamps.  
  
"What did you expect?" Draco followed her eyes to the portraits, sensing her insecurity. "Don't tell me you expected a welcome?" Draco laughed, shaking his head. Hermione narrowed her eyes, indignant. The portraits smiled along with Draco, giving Hermione self-important looks and haughty winks.  
  
"Master Malfoy, may I have a word with you for a second?" Draco turned to a portrait on his right, a woman with short black hair and piercing blue eyes. "Your mother told me to tell you that she's going to be gone for the evening. She's picking your father up at-"  
  
Her eyes narrowed and looked over at Hermione.  
  
Hermione was struck with how much her eyes were like Draco's. This woman was hard. And she'd made it clear with one look that Hermione wasn't welcome here. The woman turned back to Draco.  
  
"She also told me to tell you that she'll be back around midnight. She's made up the girl's bed upstairs at the end of the east wing. The party is tomorrow night, so she also wants you to keep the house clean. And for the kitchen-"  
  
"You can shut up now, Maurel," Draco interrupted, rolling his eyes. "This is Hermione Granger, and she'll be staying with us for the week."  
  
Hermione walked forward towards Maurel, but stopped when she was sent a look that could rival Draco or Snape.  
  
Draco looked from one to another, cursing inwardly. He should have just taken Hermione upstairs and tried to avoid the unavoidable confrontation with his relatives. He couldn't deny he enjoyed Hermione's humiliation, but he was tired and there was plenty of time for that tomorrow. "  
  
Let me show you we're you're going to be sleeping. I'm sure she'll be better behaved in the morning."  
  
"Behaved?" Maurel laughed. "I guess you think having a Mudblood in our house is a joke, don't you?" She glanced at Hermione through the gloom of the hallway. "I, on the other hand, don't see anything amusing."  
  
"I think that's enough, Maurel," Draco said. "Come on, Granger. I'll show you your room."  
  
Hermione let herself be led upstairs, away from Maurel. She felt suddenly very tired. If she had been more awake, she would have been interested to see what was around her. All the walls were covered in draping dark purple cloth with occasional breaks to accommodate doors or chapel sized windows looking out over the grounds.  
  
Draco could feel that Hermione was slipping. He was thankful, because half the things around them could be very embarrassing if she asked questions. His father was notorious, at least in this house, of being a collector of creepy and disturbing artifacts, some things even his mother would disapprove of, stuff that made Draco fearful to get up in the middle of the night. Of course, he'd never admit this to anyone, especially not the girl who he was reluctantly supporting on his arm. She'd probably tell Potter and have a good laugh about it later.  
  
They had reached Hermione's room and Draco pushed back the purple curtain covering the door and led her in.  
  
"This is where you'll be sleeping. I'll show you how to find it tomorrow morning. I don't want to waste my time escorting you to your room every time you need something. Goodnight, Mudblood."  
  
With that, he left her. Hermione walked over to the four-poster bed in the middle of the massive room she had received. She slipped off her shoes, gratefully letting her toes sink into the thick carpet beneath. She gave herself one minute to change into her pajamas and then sank into the bed without cleaning her teeth. She went out like a light and fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco walked down the hall to Hermione's room. It had taken him a while to get to sleep the night before. He knew his father was home because he saw his cane by the door when he collected the mail. He was obviously still asleep or he would have found Draco by now.  
  
It still seemed like night in the hallway because no one had pulled back the curtains of the windows yet, and when he pushed Hermione's door open he could hear by her even breathing that she was still asleep. He walked over and pulled open her curtains, letting the morning light flood into the room and onto Hermione's face.  
  
"Up! UP!" Draco yelled, walking back to the door.  
  
Hermione sat up and blinked under the force of the sunlight. Indignation rose in her chest at Draco's unwelcome wake up call.  
  
"Could you close the curtains?" she said, rubbing her eyes.  
  
"I was thinking of showing you around the grounds today," Draco said, ignoring Hermione's request. "This will get your out of the house for the party and cover my role as host in one swoop."  
  
"Didn't your father get home last night?" Hermione asked. "Don't you want to spend some time with him?"  
  
"No," Draco said a little too quickly. Hermione looked awkwardly around. "What I mean is, he'll probably be sleeping all day, and I wouldn't want to wake him up just to talk." Hermione nodded. "Plus, since I get to play host, I have to keep you entertained. Don't want you giving a bad report to the Ministry."  
  
Draco moved outside and closed the door. He breathed out a relieved breath, running his fingers through his hair. He was not looking forward to this: a whole day with a Mudblood. He just hoped he didn't catch a disease or something.  
  
But as he thought about her he couldn't help but ask himself if he'd really mind being with her. But he shook his head violently, shaking the demons away that whispered weird thoughts into his ear.  
  
Draco jumped back as Hermione opened her door. She was dressed for the outdoors, with a heavy coat and a striped Gryffindor scarf. Her hair was braided loosely and under a woven hat.  
  
"Ready?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"That's why I'm waiting for YOU, Granger." Draco sneered, walking in front of her and leading her down the hall towards the main staircase.  
  
"Love your scarf!" Maurel yelled at her as Hermione followed Draco out the back door. 


	7. The Truth Comes Out

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
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The frosty morning air stung Hermione's warm nose and ears, blowing hard against her face. She shielded her face with her hand as she followed Draco across the yard. The yard itself was very well pruned, every bush in a cut shape and each path swept clean. As much as Hermione was obsessed with perfection, she felt that the yard could have used some flowers, or even some weeds, just to prove that the Malfoys were human.  
  
Draco went to the back of the yard and stopped at a low fence that led out onto the moor. When Herminone caught up with him, he opened a small door in the fence and led the way out of the yard. This was more Hermione's taste. The grass and trees were wilder than the yard and there was more space to run. No clean-swept path to follow. Just herself and the sky.  
  
Draco felt at home. This was where he came to think, to escape from his house, his father. It was where he could finally be himself and it was more of an adventure. The moor was dangerous and wild. It was easy to get lost on the moor and you had to be careful where you walked. But Draco knew every part of this moor. He breathed in the air and felt more energized. He looked over at Hermione, who was shielding her face from the sun's glare.  
  
"This is our backyard." He said blandly.  
  
"Aren't you going to show me around the house?" Hermione asked hopefully.  
  
"No. You'd probably break something or catch something on fire." Draco replied, walking up further into the moor. Hermione gritted her teeth and followed.  
  
They reached a tree at the top of a hill overlooking the Manor. Hermione sat down to catch her breath and shield herself from the wind. Draco stood there a little awkwardly, not wanting to sit down next to her. He didn't want her to get the impression that he was.... "cozy" with a Mudblood. And it certainly wouldn't do for his parents to know.  
  
Hermione looked up at Draco, who was standing staring at the horizon, rocking back and forth on his heels. Well, of course he doesn't want to sit next to me, she thought. I'm a Mudblood and he wouldn't want to "lower himself."  
  
They stayed that way for a while, just thinking. Not once in two hours did Draco sit down. Hermione marveled later at the leg strength Draco must have had to stay up that long. Despite the serene surroundings, Hermione was beginning to get bored.  
  
"So, how long do you think you can hide from your father?" Hermione asked, looking up at Draco.  
  
Draco turned towards Hermione in a mixture of shock and distress. Hermione was inwardly pleased. This was the most emotion Draco had shown all day and it satisfied her to know that it was her words that brought it.  
  
"I'm not stupid. And I'm not surprised either," Hermione said in response to the shocked silence that ensued.  
  
Draco was still staring, hating the self-possessed smirk on her face. He frowned and walked a little further off, stopping at another tree. Hermione leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. "Just when I thought I had him figured out..."  
  
When she opened her eyes a few minutes later she saw that Draco had sat on the other side of her tree, their backs on either side of the tree trunk. Hermione let a few moments pass before she spoke.  
  
"I expect your father isn't much nicer to you than he is to Harry, Ron, or me." Draco chuckled at the understatement.  
  
"What do you care?" Draco asked testily, tearing up blades of grass by his feet.  
  
"Well, since you're SUCH a conservationist," Hermione replied, "I thought you might enlighten me with a bit of your family life." They paused. "Fine. Whatever."  
  
They sat there, each staring onto the moor. Draco suddenly found himself talking. "I go up here to get away from him...when he's mad or something." He found it strangely comforting to be able to say this to someone, especially when there was a tree barrier between them.  
  
"Everyone always think that since I'm his son he suddenly becomes a 'father figure.' In reality, I don't really know what that means."  
  
Hermione didn't know what to say. Usually when they talked they were exchanging insults. She certainly couldn't follow that one up with a crack about his hair.  
  
Draco, instead of feeling relieved to be sharing, felt empty. Telling someone doesn't make it go away, he realized. It just makes it more real. He suddenly felt amazingly alone.  
  
Hermione pushed her doubts aside and walked around the tree. Draco looked up at her, suddenly realizing that he had shared his secret with the one person who wouldn't mind caving up in a well.  
  
"I bet you feel so powerful now," Draco said, standing up. "I bet you were planning on saying something smart or cynical to make me feel even worse."  
  
"Well, I was planning on saying something comforting," Hermione started, all pity she might have felt swirling swiftly down a drain.  
  
"Forget it! I don't need your sympathy!" Draco cried suddenly, turning around and stomping back to the Manor. Hermione stood there, watching his retreating back.  
  
"Then why did you tell me?" Hermione yelled at him. The only recognition that he had heard was that he slammed the garden gate extra hard..  
  
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What the Malfoys called a "party" was more like a "gathering." As Hermione entered the house shortly after Draco, she noticed that the only guests she could see besides Mrs. Malfoy were a few people from the Ministry and an obvious relative. There were more portraits in the front hall than there were guests.  
  
"Don't like a lot of visitors, do you?" Hermione muttered to Malfoy, who was leaning against a wall by the stair case.  
  
"Shut up," Draco said, moving away towards his mother,  
  
"Where's father?" Draco asked.  
  
"In his study; apparently, he doesn't want any welcoming at his welcome party." But even though she sounded disapproving, Hermione could detect a bit of nervousness. "Well, go eat something!" She added, pushing Draco towards the kitchen. She finally noticed Hermione, who was just deciding whether it was worth stealing a few crackers or heading off to bed.  
  
"Mrs. Granger, I take it?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, cutting Hermione off near the main stairs. Hermione nodded and held out her hand. Mrs. Malfoy looked at her suspiciously before taking it.  
  
Merlin's beard, it's not like I'm diseased, Hermione thought.  
  
"Well, I sent Draco to the kitchen to eat something. I recommend you do the same. Oh, and an owl came for you. It's on the table." Hermione followed Draco into the kitchen, slightly puzzled as she picked up the letter. She eyed Draco, who was pouring himself some pop, suspiciously.  
  
"Did you read this?"  
  
Draco turned around with a smirk.  
  
"Does it look open?" He took a sip of his pop. "Besides, why would I want to Mudblood letters anyway? Most of the times they're full of unintelligent rabble and very boring." "Really, you should talkm," Hermione said, brreaking open the seal. Draco only smiled and opened the fridge for more pop.  
  
Hermione put her attention to the letter:~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione!  
If you have gotten this letter, it means you're not dead, which is a miracle. We know it must be a struggle surviving in that hell hole, but hang in there. Oh, Harry wants to know if you've found anything yet. We know it's only been two days, but you're the kind that likes to get things done, so it doesn't hurt to ask. Be careful. If Malfoy catches you, jinx him and run out with the invisibility cloak. I think a warning from the ministry is better than certain death. Be careful and have a good Christmas!  
Ron and Harry P.S. Write back of your progress. Oh, and what do you want to Christmas?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione closed the letter and breathed in. She had forgotten that she was here to get the Malfoys busted. But now, she didn't know if she could. If she got Lucius back in jail, Draco might be happy, but since he was also in the family the Ministry might not be so lenient this time. There's enough evidence in this house to put the whole family in jail.  
  
But she had made a promise. If she wasn't here to prove Lucius guilty, what was she here for?  
  
"Who's it from?" Draco said, looking over her shoulder.  
  
"Nobody!" Hermione said hurriedly, stuffing the letter in her pocket. Draco gave her an amused look. "I mean, only my parents, checking to see if I...got here ok."  
  
"Are you sure it wasn't from darling Potty, or maybe your deprived friend, Weasley?" Draco asked, drawing out every word.  
  
"Draco?" They were interrupted in their argument by Mrs. Malfoy. She stood at the door with a very fearful look on her face. "Honey, your father wants to see you."  
  
Draco froze, his body turning to ice. His tried to fight down the panic that was rising in his throat. He moved closer to the back of the kitchen.  
  
"It's not safe to keep him waiting..please, Draco," His mother said, almost pleadingly. Draco swallowed and looked down at Hermione.  
  
"Family calls," Draco said, forcing a smile. 


	8. The Lion's Den

Disclaimer: Blah de blah de blah de blah..yawn  
  
A/N: FINALLY! Back from CSSSA (which was one of the best times of my life) and ready to update! Ha cha cha!  
  
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Draco left the light and warmth of the kitchen and entered the curtained and darkened hallway. Never before had the hallway seemed to dark and forbidding, or maybe it was the thing waiting for him at the end of the hall that was so formidable. He didn't want to waste time thinking about it though. Besides the fact that he couldn't keep his father waiting for much longer, the more he thought about it the more he wanted to take a running jump out of the closest purple-velveted window.  
  
Hermione stood with Mrs. Malfoy watching Draco make his way slowly down the hallway towards the thin light outline of the farthest doorway. She felt the air tense around herself and Mrs. Malfoy as Draco neared the doorway and looked back at them.  
  
"Ok, now I'm just being melodramatic." Draco thought as he reached slowly for the door knob. "It's not as bad as I'm making it out to be, I'm sure."  
  
"...not as bad as he's making it out to be, I'm sure." Hermione thought.  
  
Draco, summoning up the last bit of arrogance he had left, sent a haughty "watch this" look behind his shoulder at the two standing far behind him, pulled his bag further up on his shoulder, and grasped the doorknob. It gave easily and he felt the door swing open in front of him as though it had been recently oiled. Firelight flicked across his face as...  
  
...Hermione watched Draco disappear into the Lion's Den.  
  
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As the door swung shut behind Draco, a silence enveloped the room except for the crackling of the fire, which left the room stifling hot and muggy. The room which Draco scanned for his father was richly carpeted and curtained in red. The walls were lined with bookshelves stacked triple with books Draco had never been allowed to read, but probably contained all of the Hogwarts Restricted Section and more. He finally saw his father sitting hunch-backed in an armchair by the fire. His eyes were staring vacantly into the fire and he showed no sign that he had heard his son enter.  
  
Draco knew better than to speak first, but he vainly hoped that his father had somehow not heard him and that, after a few minutes, he could sneak out again. He was about to leave when his father sighed.  
  
"Well, sit down."  
  
Draco started as his father's voice and instinctively took a step back. His father looked around in his seat. "Put your bag down and sit down."  
  
Draco moved towards to a chair next to his father and sat down. He sat his bag in his lap and nervously fiddled with the straps. His father eyed him critically. He suddenly reached over and grabbed Draco's bag from his hands, placing it by his chair. Draco felt suddenly very vulnerable under his father's stare and broke off his father's gaze to stare into the fire.  
  
"Aren't you going to welcome me back?" Lucius' mouth twitched up at the corners as his son forced out a "Welcome home, father" towards the fire. Lucius sat back in his chair and started picking his fingernails with his envelope opener. "So, how's school?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"And your grades?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
Draco pulled his knees up to his chin. "Get your feet off the upholstery." Lucius said lazily. Draco quickly set his feet back on the ground. They sat in silence for a while, every second dragging on like an hour to Draco, who sat there watching his father out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"So, how's the Mudblood coming along?" For the first time since he sat down, Draco looked over at his father. "Well, she is under your care, is she not?"  
  
"She's fine."  
  
"Your vocabulary seems to have been reduced to one adjective, Draco. Why don't you tell me what's been happening with you two. I heard it's that girl, Granger, who I've heard so much about in past years. Funny, no, that she should be the one chosen to spend the holidays with us?" Draco nodded.  
  
Lucius' cold smirk vanished and he stood up, sparking an instinctive action on Draco's part to stand as well. "Enjoying the festivities, is she?"  
  
Draco had the look of a trapped rabbit. He didn't know what sparked his father's anger, but he had enough experience to know that he should now be on his guard.  
  
"I don't know what you mean, Father."  
  
Lucius stalked towards Draco and roughly pulled him up to his face by the shirt collar. Draco whimpered and shut his eyes, his father's nose less than an inch from his face.  
  
"You've always been slow, but I would have expected even you to have recognized the significance of Potter's little friend just HAPPENING to want to spend the holidays with us." He pushed Draco to the ground in disgust and turned away to idly scan the book titles on his shelf. Draco sat up, gingerly touching a cut on his forehead, a result of his head hitting the furnace as his father threw him down.  
  
"The point I'm making, Draco, is that Granger is up to something. It was Potter who put me in Azkaban in the first place and I don't intend to go back." He turned around to stare at his son cowering on the floor by the fire. "And if I have to because you let some Mudblood working for Potter into my house." Lucius paused to look into the fire. "...then I will dig a hole and bury you in it."  
  
Draco felt nauseous. The cold stones under his hand grew slick with his sweat and the fire beside him licked up the sides of the fireplace like a hungry animal. Lucius looked over at his son staring up at him.  
  
"Why are you still on the floor?" Draco swallowed. "Get up, boy." Draco stood up and faced his father, the gash in his forehead standing out ruby red in the firelight. "You seem to have cut yourself. Go get cleaned up before you dirty up your shirt."  
  
Draco started moving towards the doorway, wiping off a trickle of blood that was falling down his cheek, when he heard his father snort. He turned around to see his father holding his bag, which he had forgotten, and looking through his sketch book.  
  
"Shit." Draco thought. His father was turning the pages, a look of mild amusement on his face. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.."  
  
Lucius turned the last page and saw the picture of Hermione that Draco had drawn in the taxi. His look of amusement turned to one of mild surprise. He looked up at Draco, who was still inwardly cursing himself. "I've only met Granger a couple of times, but am I not mistaken that this is she?"  
  
Draco tried to think quickly as he father slowly stood up and walked towards him with his sketchbook. "Uh, yeah, it was when we were on our way home..and I was bored.." Lucius nodded and held out the sketchbook. Draco looked at his father in momentary shock and reached out to take it.  
  
Before Draco could take the book Lucius took the sketch book with both hands and smashed Draco across the face with it. Draco hurled back and slammed against the door..........  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
...Hermione and Mrs. Malfoy, who were still standing by the hallway, heard the crash and saw the door shake. Mrs. Malfoy sucked a short breath in and Hermione started down the hallway. Mrs. Malfoy grabbed her arm and pulled her back.....  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
.......Lucius threw Draco's bag at his son, who sat sobbing against the door.  
  
"You've never had any strength, have you?" Lucius took one last look at the sketch book and threw it into the fire, where it slowly curled up on itself and all that was left of it was ashes....  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When Draco emerged from the hallway, his mother rushed over and led him into the kitchen. Hermione was shut out by Mrs. Malfoy when she tried to enter and so she sat down by the door and looked around at the party, which had gone on as though nothing had happened. She saw Lucius Malfoy emerge from the hallway and nod at his guests. He found her and coldly smiled as he reached for his coat. Mrs. Malfoy came out of the kitchen and froze when she saw her husband pulling on his coat. When Lucius turned around to grab his hat, he saw his wife and sniffed coldly.  
  
"I'll be back soon. I have a meeting with some...friends." Lucius grabbed his cane and walked out of the house, leaving the door wide open to the cold wind. Mrs. Malfoy shivered and rushed over to close the door. Hermione looked out the window to see Mr. Malfoy disapparting outside.  
  
"Having a fun time?" Maurel smirked from her portrait at Hermione. "A colorful bunch, aren't we?"  
  
"More than I ever knew." Hermione said under her breath. 


	9. The Fever

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, although I'd like to own Rupurt Grint. I'd make him be my monkey, and follow me around to play music and cut me food into bite sized pieces.  
  
A/N: Hey guys! I know you didn't get the update for chapter 8, so if you havn't read the chapter before this (Draco's confrontation with Lucius) then go back and this chapter will make more sense. Thank you all again for the reviews and support!  
  
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Draco's head, which lay on the table, throbbed so hard he thought it was going to explode. He fought back blackness over and over as his mom tried to get him to drink the water she was holding out to him, but Draco was afraid that if he moved he'd fall to pieces in a jumble of emotions for the entire world to see.  
  
Hermione edged open the kitchen door and looked through the crack.  
  
"That's spying, you know. Not a good idea trying to be shady in this house." Maurel said loudly.  
  
"Shut up." Hermione murmured, keeping her eyes on the scene in the kitchen. Draco's head lay on the table top and his mother was gently mopping his forehead with a wet cloth. An abandoned glass of water stood next to them. Hermione looked vainly for Draco's face, but it was faced away from her.  
  
"SHADY! SHADY!" Maurel yelled loudly. Mrs. Malfoy looked up just in time to see Hermione quickly close the door. Maurel sent Hermione a self-satisfied look as Mrs. Malfoy opened the door. Her face was drawn and white, and she only sighed when she saw Hermione.  
  
"Well, you go in and try." Hermione stood up, facing Mrs. Malfoy. She wanted more than ever to say something, something comforting or valiant, but Hermione wasn't good with that. Words of comfort were just not her expertise.  
  
Hermione stepped past Mrs. Malfoy into the kitchen and closed the door quietly behind her. She made no move forward, but stayed in the doorframe, looking pityingly at the pathetic figure slumped down on the table.  
  
"It's a lot worse than you put it out to be, you know." She said softly.  
  
Draco's head moved up to looked at the new voice. The small movement worked agony on his head, but he fought against the pain. Hermione's presence was strangely comforting and he needed something besides the smothering concern of his mother.  
  
"Well, I didn't know you'd get a show of it today." Draco's head went back to the table and Hermione went and sat down next to him. Her hand sought out his and she squeezed it gently.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"Now you're a counselor? I thought you were a Mudblood."  
  
"No, but if I didn't try to console I'd probably be labeled insensitive."  
  
"Ooooh! And we can't have that, can we?" Draco said weakly.  
  
"Well," Hermione breathed out. "You're not going to get any better lying on a table. Let's get you up." Draco moaned in protest as Hermione put an arm around his waist and lifted him up. "Come on, you can walk. You're cut, not crippled."  
  
Mrs. Malfoy rushed over as Hermione emerged, supporting Draco on one shoulder and holding his glass of water. They both helped him up the stairs. As they supported Draco along the darkened hallways, Hermione thought she could almost feel Draco's strength draining out of him, and her heart went out to him again. His hair hung limply over his face and he looked so much weaker and meek than he did when he had bore down on her in the Hogwarts hallways.  
  
They reached his room and Mrs. Malfoy opened the door. She kissed Draco on the cheek and turned to Hermione.  
  
"I know this sounds selfish, but with my husband gone-" she paused. "-with my husband gone I need to be down at the party. They're family, but if I leave them alone I'll come back to an empty house and no silverware. Could you-" again she paused. "He's in a great deal of pain, and I'm sure he'd appreciate someone to talk to." She smiled and held the door for them.  
  
"I don't need a babysitter.." Draco mumbled as Hermione led him into his room.  
  
Mrs. Malfoy closed the door quietly and walked the long walk back down to the party, still going despite everything.  
  
Hermione eased Draco down onto an armchair and started to build up the fire in the fireplace. She felt like she was in an awkward position. She looked behind her shoulder. Draco was staring at the rug, fingering his shirt collar. She crawled over and sat by his feet, trying to catch his eye.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
Draco shifted his eyes over to Hermione sitting by his feet, and smiled.  
  
"I'm fine, just a little shaken up." Hermione's eyes narrowed.  
  
"How long have you been dealing with this?"  
  
Draco looked back at the rug, averting Hermione's accusing stare.  
  
"You should have told someone."  
  
"Can we talk about something else?"  
  
Hermione sighed.  
  
"Fine, but you're going to have to come to grips with it sooner or later, and the sooner the better." She went to her knees and pushed back his bangs to inspect the cut on his forehead. "It's not your fault right now, but if it goes on any longer and you don't tell anyone, then you have no one to blame but yourself."  
  
Draco shivered under the light touch of Hermione's fingertips on his forehead. His head was so dizzy..  
  
"What? Are you feeling feverish?" Hermione placed her hand on his forehead, feeling for heat. She snatched it away quickly. It burned like fire.  
  
"Draco-!" Hermione placed her hand back on his forehead. "You're burning up!" Draco closed his eyes, totally oblivious. All he knew at the moment was the cool feeling of her palm on his forehead.  
  
"You need to get to your bed. You need to lie down." She lugged him up and started leading him to his bed. "You're going to need to help me here, because you're not exactly a lightweight." All this was said with fake amusement. Hermione herself was panicking. This was not where she wanted to be. She could just picture someone walking in. What would Harry say? Ron would probably denounce her and call her a "traitor." Draco flopped down on the bed and lay there with his eyes closed. Hermione didn't know what to do.  
  
Draco felt the world spinning around him, threatening to spin him into the cool, peaceful darkness of unconsciousness. All that was keeping him awake was the fact that Hermione was standing anxiously beside him.  
  
"Do you want me to stay?" Hermione knelt down until she was by his face. Draco stared into her concerned face, his drained face mirrored into her dark, shadowed eyes. He noticed her almost impossibly long eyelashes, how she had a small scattering of freckles across her nose, and how it turned up at the end. It was in this feverish haze that he finally accepted the feelings he had been so afraid to recognize. And now that they were in, they rose up so strongly that he had to breath them back down in fear that he might choke.  
  
Hermione squeezed his hand and brushed back a small lock of his hair from his eyes, sending him a soft smile.  
  
"Do you want me to stay?" she repeated.  
  
Draco nodded as Hermione settled herself on the floor next to him. He kept hold of her hand when she tried to lie down on the ground.  
  
"Just until I fall asleep," Draco murmured.  
  
Hermione nodded and sat down next to the bed, taking his hand. To Draco's surprise, he didn't feel the usually pangs of disgust he usually did when he and Hermione accidentally touched. He felt...comfort. Draco closed his eyes and almost immediately fell into a feverish sleep. Hermione felt his hand go limp and she slowly eased hers out. She sat there and watched Draco, stirring fitfully in his sleep, and mused on how little she really knew about him. She fingered her jacket and felt the letter she had gotten from Ron, and felt the enormous stress of her job fall upon her yet again.  
  
Having Draco sick is perfect, Harry would say. She's now free to look around for real now. She knew she couldn't back away, but she hated to use Draco's current weakness to her advantage, especially now that she knew what he had been going through.  
  
She had also felt things inside herself tonight that made her scared. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated, she raged inside herself. But she heard the voices of Harry and Ron, her best friends, in the words of the letter and knew that she had an obligation.  
  
But she cursed them. 


	10. The Fever Breaks

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But on that subject, I WOULD like a pony. OH! And a really cool minicooper. And some sorbet. Ooooooo, how I love sorbet!  
  
A/N: My longest chapter yet, and I think my best. Thank you so much for all your cool reviews! Those are what keep me writing, so this is really all your doing!  
  
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The morning dawned gray for Hermione, who awoke the next morning in Draco's room, her head lying painfully on a stack of books on the floor. She had refused to leave Draco, who had been talking and moaning in his fevered sleep. He was still asleep, but at peace at the moment.  
  
She crept out of his room after covering him with a light coverlet and crept down the halls, trying vainly to find her own bedroom.  
  
"It's like a labyrinth." She thought as she walked down the dim hallway. "You'd think they'd have a directory or something." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dreams raged inside of Draco's head, sending him tumbling into an abyss of his innermost secrets and desires, and he couldn't wake up....and the fever raged on.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione reached the staircase leading downstairs and gave up. She would have to wait until someone woke up and she could ask them. She walked downstairs over to a window and pulled back the heavy curtains. The light came in cold and gray, piercing the darkness that kept resolutely present. Frost glittered across the moor like a huge spider web, and she could already see the gardeners defrosting the bushes and clipping stray branches. With gray clothes and pale skin, they seemed as white as the scenery they were tending to.  
  
"Close the curtains."  
  
Hermione swung around, nearly tripping over the heavy curtains, and stumbled forward. The curtains swung back in place, throwing the hallway into its usual darkness. Before Hermione could get her bearing back, a hand gripped her arm and dragged her out of the kitchen door. She stood, blinking in the morning light until the hand gripping her arm swung her around and she met the cold face of Lucius.  
  
Lucius was dressed in all gray, like the gardeners, and his shoulder length silver hair shone like the frost on the moor. The hand that didn't have hold of Hermione was holding a cane, silver tipped and black. Hermione tugged her arm out of his grasp and stood rubbing the sore spot. Lucius leaned back against the door, fingering the silver on his cane.  
  
"I trust we've treated you well so far in your stay here at Malfoy Manor?" Lucius said unsmilingly. Hermione rubbed her arm, eyeing the cane. Lucius sneered, his lip curling up over his teeth.  
  
"I've been fine."  
  
"Good." Lucius straightened. "That's very good. In that case, I'd like to move on to the reason we're out here.."  
  
"I was wondering.." Hermione muttered under her breath. Lucius threw up his cane, making Hermione step back. Lucius caught it near the end, twisting it up behind his shoulder, and stepped forward.  
  
"I don't know why you're here. I don't want to hear your explanation, but if you think I'm stupid than you're painfully wrong." Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "The Ministry didn't question why someone like you would want to spend their holiday here, and my son is obviously too stupid to care. But I-"  
  
He breathed in and straightened his coat. Hermione looked around her, trying to figure out a quick method of escape if he should come after her.  
  
"Do you understand?"  
  
Hermione looked back at Lucius, who was leaning against the door, blocking her only way of escape. An overwhelming hate grew inside her as she imagined the last two days.  
  
"So, did you get home alright last night?" She said, matching Lucius's glare with one equally as cold.  
  
"Meaing what?" Lucius asked menacingly.  
  
"Nothing. I just didn't think you'd be in contact with Voldemort so soon. I would think that with the Ministry breathing down your neck and your busy schedule of beating your son you'd at least wait a few days until you went back to being a traitor."  
  
It took a moment for Lucius to register the insult, but when it did he snarled and grabbed her wrists.  
  
"Good god, let go-" Hermione started, but Lucius kneed her painfully in the stomach and pulled her back up by the wrists, where she hung coughing.  
  
"If I find that you're here for any other reason than to enjoy your holidays, the Gryffindors will find themselves short one crony." He let go of her wrists and opened the kitchen door. Hermione, still weak and catching breath, supported herself on the porch railing.  
  
"Let Potter do his own work next time. Don't let him get you killed for his lack of balls." Lucius walked into the kitchen, letting the door swing closed shut behind him. Hermione hung onto the railing, letting the cold wind blow her hair over her face.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was dreaming.....  
  
Draco was sitting with his mother in her bedroom. She was reading to him, his head nestled warmly in her lap, the fire burning gently in the fireplace. Mrs. Malfoy's voice drifted over the room comfortingly .....  
  
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Hermione sat by the main staircase banister, trying to decide whether or not it was worth looking around. The cons seemed to outweigh the pros dramatically and it was only her word to Harry and Ron that kept her even considering doing her job. She rubbed her stomach painfully. She shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid, she knew now. But it had only made her hate grow more.  
  
Lucius walked to the front door and opened it, looking behind him at Hermione sitting by the banister.  
  
"Let's try to behave while Master Lucius is gone, shall we?" Lucius said, smiling up at Hermione.  
  
"Only someone who is really arrogant or really STUPID talks in the third person," Hermione replied, thanking God inwardly that she had space between herself and Lucius's cane.  
  
Lucius's smile faded a little, but the smugness stayed on his face as he walked out the door. Hermione could hear him disapparting with a pop as the door swung closed. She let out a breath and stood up.  
  
"Time to get to work," she said.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
...Mrs. Malfoy had fallen asleep and Draco was sitting beside her on the bed, flipping the book pages idly. Suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew across the room, sending the book flying from Draco's hands. It landed on the floor, its pages turning over in the wind. Draco heard a banging from outside the window and he got out of bed to walk across the room to the window. It was open, light white muslin curtains flapping. He pulled them back to gaze outside...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione stood at the beginning of the first hallway, counting the doors on either side. She couldn't help wondering that if there were only three people living in the house, why they would need twelve rooms on each side of the hallway. She was also worried that she would bump into Mrs. Malfoy, which would be disastrous.  
  
Hermione gingerly turned the doorknob to the first door, half expecting it to explode under her hands or hex.  
  
Locked.  
  
She could of course unlock it by magic, but she didn't quite feel like getting in trouble with the Ministry right now. So she moved on, checking each door. Most were locked. Halfway down the right side of the hall, her hands found an unlocked door. She pushed it open, stepping back quickly in case she had to make a quick break for escape. The room was dark, but nothing monstrous or dangerous popped out at her, so she moved into the shadows of the room.  
  
Her eyes fell upon an empty room, totally bereft of any furniture or wall hangings. Hermione scanned the room for anything that she could write off as being dark magic, but nothing interesting caught her eye. Cobwebs and dust..  
  
But Hermione sensed something in the room, an invisibility charm or maybe a hex waiting to spring. It felt dark and suffocating almost. It brought back memories of the battle in the Department of Ministries, memories of dark magic. Hermione edged out of the room, making mental note to go back to that room. Something had happened in that room..  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
..a gang of black robed figures were making their way across the moor. Draco strained his eyes, trying to make out a recognizable face, but the mist and darkness obscured any features that might have been recognizable. They were dragging something; someone, not a something. It was a young boy, in his early twenties. He was screaming at his captors and fighting against their grip, but Draco couldn't hear anything because of the howling wind. Suddenly, one of the robed figures turned around and a blast of fire shot out of his wand, hitting the man across the face...  
  
Draco screamed out, but his words were immediately whipped away by the wind. The unconscious man was dragged inside as the black robed figures disappeared though the back door. They were in his house...  
  
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Hermione was not having any luck. Every door she tried was locked except for the one earlier, and she had no intention of going into there again alone. She got a horrible feeling in there, like her heart was bring gripped with an iron clamp.  
  
As she walked out of the hallway into the main hall Maurel followed her with her eyes.  
  
"Having fun all by yourself? Not getting into trouble, I hope."  
  
Good god, I don't need this right now. "Nothing for you to concern yourself about."  
  
"This is my house! How a respectable family like the Malfoys took you in for their holidays I don't know! I would think you had some Mudblood gathering to get to."  
  
Hermione walked up to the portrait and stood looking up at the pinched, soured face looking down at her with an utter loathing.  
  
"You know what I'm confused about? How even in a portrait where imperfections can apparently be changed, you still look like your face smashed into the rear side of a barn."  
  
Maurel turned a mottled shade of purple and drew herself up to her full height.  
  
"If I still had my wand...."  
  
"And were mobile.."  
  
"SHUT UP! If I still had my wand, I'd hex your mousy little face right off!"  
  
"Yeah well, too bad you can't. Bye now."  
  
Hermione walked calmly up the stairs, followed by Maurel's shrieks and threats. A smile curved the ends of her mouth..  
  
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.....Draco crept down the stairs, hiding in the shadows, and followed the cushioned footsteps of the intruders down the hallway towards his father's study. Halfway down the hall, however, they turned into an open door, dragging the young man after them. Draco waited a few seconds and followed after them. He stopped at the doorway and looked around the corner into the room.  
  
The room was empty of anything except the intruders. They had formed a circle around the unconscious man, who they were trying to wake up. The room smelled foul, like stale magic and blood. Draco sat frozen by the door, unnoticed by the robed figures. The man was stirring, muttering under his breath, blood dripping from his mouth onto the bare floor. One of the robed figures kicked him in the stomach and pointed his wand at him.  
  
"Stand up."  
  
The man only lay there on the ground, muttering under his breath. Draco suddenly realized with horror what the man was doing, who he was talking to. He was praying.  
  
"STAND UP! IMPERIO!"  
  
The man stood up, still muttering to himself. His eyes were vacant and his expression empty. Draco was reminded of a living corpse and suddenly wanted very much to run back to his room, to his mother, but he was frozen to the floor.  
  
The men in the robes took out their wands, all except for one, who took out a long knife from his long robes. Two men took hold of the young man's arms as the man carrying the knife approached. The man pulled down his hood to better see the man.  
  
Draco was beyond speech, but he could still see in the dismal light the silver hair and the cold merciless gaze of his father.  
  
When his father reached the man, he smiled and motioned for one of the men holding the man's arms to uncover a wrist. The man stood there muttering, either crazy or uncaring of his fate. A skull with a snake crawling though its mouth, the Dark Mark, was clearly visible on the man's wrist, so it was clear even in Draco's shock that the young man was a worker of Voldemort's. Lucius held the knife up to the light and in one swift movement swung it down..  
  
The man's hand, cut from the wrist, fell away as the man lost his footing and slumped to the floor. Lucius wiped the blood on the man's robe and motioned for them to let him fall on the floor. The man lay there, cradling the stump of his hand, sobbing in pain. Lucius only regarded him with the same cold stare he used with his son.  
  
All men now took out their wands and pointed them at the pathetic figure curled up on the floor. Draco suddenly found that he could move and scrambled back to his feet, letting himself run up the stairs.  
  
"CRUCIO!"  
  
Draco heard the curse behind him and the young man's screams that followed him; followed him up the stairs, to his mother's room, to her bed...  
  
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.....to his bed, where he sat up with a strangled yell.  
  
His fever was breaking. 


	11. The Heat in Snow

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I DO own Rupurt Grint though, but I'm thinking of setting him free sometime soon. What do you think?  
  
A/N: Not the longest chapter in the world, but the one I put the most thought into. It was also the hardest to write, because I'm not the best romance writer, but I'm worse with parody, do this had to be it. Hopefully it won't be THAT bad and you won't laugh TOO much. Please, pity is good. And thanks to everyone who have reading! Reviews mean a lot! I've also noticed many new people! You are the guys who keep me writing! Infinite thanks!  
  
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"Christmas is tomorrow."  
  
It was a few days after Draco had woken up from his sleep and Hermione was sitting by his bed eating her breakfast. Draco was propped up by a pillow, head bandaged and almost healed. Outside snow was falling lightly, sending all potential picnic days out the door and banishing the gardeners back to their rooms.  
  
The Manor was bereft of any Christmas decoration, seeing as it was hardly a holiday celebrated for the Malfoys. The only sign that Christmas was coming was that the house elves had started to include roast turkey and fruit cake in the meals. Draco, not being able to come to the table, had started to eat his meals in his room with Hermione. Unfortunately, his appetite had severely diminished since his dream, which he hadn't told anyone about.  
  
"Draco? Did you hear me?"  
  
Draco looked up from his plate, where he had been idly pushing his food around with his fork. Hermione was sitting with a piece of egg speared halfway to her mouth.  
  
"Christmas is coming, tomorrow."  
  
"Oh yeah, it is, isn't it?"  
  
Draco really couldn't care less about Christmas. It hadn't been a big deal before, why would this year be any different? But Hemione expected something at least, and he had to deliver. He felt he had to.  
  
"Does your family do anything special?" Hermione asked, chewing her belated piece of egg.  
  
"Not really. I mean, we don't have a tree or anything. But my mom usually gives me something, some small gift." He put his uneaten meal aside and stretched. "I feel like I might get up today."  
  
Hermione smiled and put her plate down. Her confusion about Draco had about doubled since his fever. She wanted desperately to know what the dream was, as it was obvious he had seen something. Both Mrs. Malfoy and she had come running when he screamed out of his sleep, but he simply shrugged it off when they arrived. Hermione, however, had had enough dream experience with Harry to know whether or not someone dreamt something important.  
  
Draco, although confined to his bed, felt like he'd been having the best holiday so far I his life. Hermione had really only left his side at night. They spent most of their time playing board games or cards. Draco had been giving Hermione drawing lessons, which she was just beginning to get. She had even given him a new sketchbook she had sent out for as an early Christmas present. With every moment spent with Hermione Draco felt himself changing. He felt like all the misery and contempt he had felt in the past was somehow being swept aside by Hermione's genuine show of caring. He had realized how much he really cared about her. It was more than the raw emotion he felt when she took care of him that first night. It was more respect and, if he could bring himself to admit it to himself, love.  
  
He also hadn't seen his father for a full two days.  
  
Hermione got up and pulled out some clothes from his wardrobe as Draco sat watching her every move. More than anything he wanted to tell her his dream, because he somehow felt she could make it go away, but he also didn't want to scare her off.  
  
More than anything Hermione wanted to ask Draco about the bare room, but she also didn't want him to know she was snooping around. Some place in her mind told her that he would have to find out eventually and that it would all be over, but in Hermione's opinion, flat denial at this point was better than dealing with it now. She had started to feel differently about Draco than she had at Hogwarts, something she hadn't really felt since Viktor, and even that was more of a crush. Draco, however...Draco..  
  
"I'll just leave these out and meet you downstairs, ok?"  
  
Draco nodded and watched her walk out and close the door softly. He sighed and pulled back the covers, swinging his legs around off the bed.  
  
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Hermione waited at the foot of the staircase, watching the house elves dust the portraits. Maurel was thankfully off in some other part of the house, or else Hermione would have been forced to set fire to her. Actually, it was something Hermione had been considering over the past few days, but she didn't feel like it would go off too well, especially since she was a guest and it was so close to Christmas. It was tempting though..  
  
"You're blocking the way." Lucius pushed her aside to make his way to the door. Hermione pushed her hand into her pocket to grasp her wand. Lucius grabbed his cane and turned around with his hand on the doorknob.  
  
"Would you be so kind as to tell my wife I'll be out for the day?" He smiled coldly.  
  
"Why are you always going out? It would seem as if you had more important business to attend to outside your family and Christmas and all." Hermione said, meeting Lucius's stare with her own.  
  
"It would seem so, wouldn't it? It would seem, and it is. Be happy for your sake. If I was here any more than I usually am, it would be so much easier for you to get on my nerves."  
  
"Why don't you try me?" Hermione said, raising her chin to look at him defiantly.  
  
Lucius's smile vanished and he was about to walk forward when Draco appeared at the top of the staircase. Both Hermione and Lucius stared up at Draco, who was dressed in winter clothes and clutching his new sketchbook. Draco quickly put his sketchbook behind his back and started to make his way downstairs, meeting Hermione at the bottom. Lucuis looked at the pair and felt the change in his son.  
  
"Draco is happy," Lucius thought to himself. "And it was all because of the smart-mouthed girl living in my house."  
  
"You're up. Glad to see it. And that cut from your clumsy fall has about healed. Good thing, because it wasn't very striking. Be sure to not wear yourself out too much. We don't want you getting sick again, do we?" Lucius grinned at his son, who was staring back at him with a searing rage.  
  
Lucius disappeared through the door. Hermione let out a sigh, letting her wand go. She turned to Draco, who just shook his head. He led her through the kitchen, out of the back door, following their past route.  
  
Hermione exited the Manor into a full-fledged Winter Wonderland. Nothing could have compared her for the flurry white snow scene that surrounded her. The organization was gone, replaced with snow drifts and frost, covering the clean cut hedges and swept pathways with glittering snow.  
  
"It's really beautiful." Hermione breathed.  
  
"We've never had this much snow." Draco admitted, surprised himself. They made their way out of the back yard onto the moor. They trekked up the hill and sat under the tree they sat before on the first day.  
  
They sat there for a while, taking in the world around them. Both of them felt like if they spoke, they would break the beautiful silence that had enveloped them both. Eventually though, Hermione spoke.  
  
"What do you do for Christmas Eve?"  
  
"Nothing," answered Draco, turning his head from the infinite whiteness of the moor.  
  
"Oh," said Hermione, looking back at the softly falling snow. Draco looked down at his gloved hands and opened his sketch book. Sensing movement, Hermione looked over at Draco.  
  
"Don't move." Draco muttered, starting to sketch the first lines of Hermione's figure. Hermione went back to her past pose. She could hear Draco's pencil squeak across the paper and his eraser working furiously.  
  
"Didn't your father get mad when he saw that you drew me last time?"  
  
"He's not going to see this. In fact-" Draco paused, his pencil stopping on the paper. "It's sort of your Christmas present."  
  
Hermione looked over at Draco.  
  
"Don't move!"  
  
Hermione looked back quickly, smiling despite her annoyance.  
  
"How long will this take?"  
  
"As long as it has to. It would help if you didn't talk either."  
  
"We're grumpy today," Hermione said, laughing softly.  
  
"I'm just concentrating hard," Draco said. And he was. As he drew, he got a chance to look at Hermione without feeling like a violator. He could take in everything. Everything that made him light-headed, everything that made him stay awake at night during his fever; and then put it all down on paper.  
  
So they sat there, for god knows how long. They sat there with each other, each enjoying the other's company, each feeling the minutes drag on into eternity.  
  
Hermione heard Draco close his sketch book and sigh. She turned towards him and smiled.  
  
"Can't I see it?"  
  
"No, it's your Christmas present. It's enough that you know what it is." He said, shaking his head. Hermione nodded and leaned back against the tree.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Draco scooted over so that he was facing the tree and Hermione. She looked beautiful.  
  
"Thank you...very much for helping me while I was sick." Draco stammered. "I know that you didn't have to. It must have been really boring, actually, sitting with me like you did."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, it was actually nice. I know our history isn't that impressive, but it was nice to get to know you." Hermione replied softly, her warm breath coming out in clouds around her head.  
  
Then there was silence. Hermione leaned forward and brushed a stray lock of silver hair from Draco's forehead that covered his eyes. Draco caught her hand and kissed it, closing his eyes to feel her warmth as he laid it on his cheek.  
  
Hermione was caught off guard, but his touch sent shivers down her spine and his cheek was so hot against her palm. She leaned forward and kissed him. She kissed the snowflakes of his face, off his cheeks, off his nose, off his eyelashes. Draco opened his eyes to stare into the depthless pools of her eyes, still holding onto Hermione's hand. Hermione put her hand on his other cheek and they kissed-their world disappeared into just them and the snow, the infinite whiteness surrounding their passionate heat. 


	12. Ionracas

Disclaimer: Rupurt's gone. I'm going through a withdrawal. I need comfort....wait, this isn't a disclaimer...hmmmm...  
  
A/N: I really hope this chapter isn't too long. I can cut it if it is, so be sure to tell me if it drags on. But this is also the most important chapter. I can end this story soon or I can make it go on. I have ideas for both, but I don't want my story to have the "never-ending" vibe, so please tell me if you'd like it to end soon or go on a little longer. Thanks for all the reviews!  
  
Thank you also, Guardian Storm Demon, for putting to my attention the lack of strength Hermione had in this chapter. I revised it and hopefully its better! Thanks again!  
  
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Hermione was happy. No, blissful. She felt like her feet were barely touching the frost covered ground as she walked back to the Manor, her hand being gripped tightly by Draco's. She felt light, as if a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. And in a way, it had.  
  
She was now convinced that she could never put Lucius back in jail because the evidence she had found, while pointing to dark magic, did not point to a specific person. It was an unlocked room, completely bare, with the sense of forbidden magic in it. With a little probing the Ministry could find out exactly what was making that magic and Hermione was sure that this time they would take no chances; they would take the whole family. With Draco's history in Hogwarts and Mrs. Malfoy's cowering obedience to Lucius, there was nothing and no one to prove them wrong.  
  
Not even Hermione. She had found the room, surely, but what proof did she have to save Draco? No, the Ministry was too stupid, and it would be Draco's head if she told. The only thing she had to do was somehow make sure he was safe from Lucius. She still didn't know how, but she did know that she couldn't just walk away from it at the end of the holiday.  
  
So as she walked back with Draco to the Manor, she understood that as one burden was gone, another took its place. And this time she didn't have to beat the Ministry, she would have to beat a Death Eater.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They walked across the freshly swept pathway to the house, the Winter Wonderland now cleaned away to reveal cut hedges and glittering bare trees. Shovels and spades were discarded on the ground, left by gardeners who had long left for their family and holidays off.  
  
Draco and Hermione took as long as they could before entering the house, staring into the gray sky, drawing pictures and words in the window frost, even going as far as to try to count the snowflakes stuck to the bushes like glittering sequins. But eventually they got too cold and had to re- enter the Manor.  
  
"Do you think your father will be back tonight?" Hermione asked looking around the kitchen as Draco took off his scarf.  
  
"No, he's never here at Christmas Eve. And my mom usually goes out after giving me my gift." The ice frozen on his hair and face had melted in the kitchen heat, leaving droplets of water hanging to his hair and cheeks. Hermione smiled and wiped them off with her scarf, kissing him gently.  
  
Draco felt like nothing he had ever felt before. He felt supremely happy yet hypocritical. He couldn't help but think, even in the midst of his joyous wonder, what would happen when they went back to Hogwarts. He knew that this was the worst possible time to be being pessimistic, but it wasn't being ridiculed that scared him. It was the horrible thought of Hermione coming to her senses and going back to her usual Potter and Weasel- Wealsey, he corrected himself.  
  
"I'm going up to talk with Mother," Draco said as Hermione pulled off her coat. "I'll be a while, so why don't you wash or something?"  
  
Hermione sent him an amused look and Draco felt hotness spread across his cheeks and neck.  
  
"Not that you need a shower-or anything. What I meant was-it's hot in here and-,"  
  
Hermione put a finger to his mouth, shaking her head and laughing softly. She turned him around and pushed him gently out of the kitchen.  
  
She watched him as he walked up the stairs and disappeared into the shadowed hallway. She pulled off her hat and went to sit at the table. She was physically exhausted and she laid her head in her arms to take a short nap in front of the warm stove..only a short nap..  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mrs. Malfoy started at the rap on her door, but relaxed when her son's face appeared. She smiled and beckoned him to her. Draco came and sat down beside her on the bed, taking in the predictable smell of baby powder that emanated from her at all times. She pulled him into her arms and he snuggled closer, enjoying the motherly affection he rarely had growing up. Suddenly, his dream came back to him and he stiffened in her arms.  
  
"What is it, darling?" Mrs. Malfoy whispered down at her son. Draco only shook his head and hugged her tighter. She laughed and loosened his grip. "You're cutting off my air, Draco."  
  
Draco sat up, suddenly regretting his childish clinginess. Mrs. Malfoy reached behind her and took out a small box, wrapped in silver and black gilt paper. She handed it to her son with a sense of seriousness. Draco took it and crossed his legs more snugly under his knees. Mrs. Malfoy went to the window as Draco gingerly pulled the scarlet ribbon free and opened the lid.  
  
Draco pulled out a -well, he didn't quite know what it was. It consisted of five black iron pipes roped together side by side by brown leather and was about the size of his spread hand. The metal wasn't smooth, but rough, like it had been through years of use, and rust had begun to turn some of the metal green. Draco looked questioningly at his mother, who was looking at her son's reflection in the window.  
  
"It's..." Draco started, but lost it when he realized he had no idea what he was holding. His mother sighed and turned towards him.  
  
"It's for your protection."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Mrs. Malfoy came over and took the pipes from his hands. "They're called the Pipes of Ionracas. They were an old weapon in Ireland long ago and your father obtained them from Knockturn Ally a few nights ago."  
  
She paused, looking at the pipe and blowing softly at the rust.  
  
"Each pipe is a certain level, you could say. Blowing into them makes a sound not meant for mortal ears. It's so strong that everyone who hears it incinerates, all but the bearer of the pipes. It was said that it was used by St. Senan when he drove the dragon out of Scattery Island. But that's just one of the explanations."  
  
Draco was astonished. He knew that his father was one to dabble in the black arts, but his mother always shied away from the objects his father collected. But now she was giving Draco an object that not only brought dark magic, but brought death.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A swift rapping at the kitchen window woke Hermione from her light doze. Her arm had left a mark on her face and she was terribly hot from sleeping in front of the stove. She rubbed the mark on her face angrily and looked towards the rapping. Pig was perched on the window sill, flapping up and down in manic excitement.  
  
Hermione opened the window a crack and caught Pig as he zoomed in. She took the letter from his beak and muffled his excessive hooting with her scarf. Pig snuggled into the red woven cotton until only his huge eyes would be seen. He hooted once more and closed his eyes for a nap.  
  
"Constant psycho energy can take it out of an owl, I guess," Hermione thought as she opened the envelope and unfolded the scroll:  
  
*******  
  
Dear Hermione,  
Merry Christmas! Sorry we couldn't send you any presents. We know you could use them right about now, but Ron doesn't know if Pig would handle it. But we have them waiting for you when you get home, which reminds me, when ARE  
you coming home? You need to find some incriminating evidence fast because break is almost over (and it's sure going to be hard to get you back there!) Oh, Ron wants to write something:  
Hermione! I hate to be a prick but HURRY UP! We were forced to tell the Order our plan, because they noticed you weren't here and asked. And Hermione, did we get a talking to! We need you back here as soon as possible because they seem to think you're in great danger! And I personally hate to think what you're going through with Malfoy! When you leave, be sure to leave a dead rat in his sheets or something because he's going to Azkaban anyway! Wow, Hermione! Won't it be amazing to have a Malfoy-free campus? I bet Crabbe and Goyle won't know what to do with themselves! They'll wonder around and bump into things, get their feet caught in snares, fall into holes. It'll be great. Anyway, try to have a happy Christmas, but hurry up and come home!  
Love,  
Ron and Harry  
  
P.S. Mum made you a sweater, but for your sake we "lost" it. It was green with orange spots. Very becoming (not!)  
  
*******  
  
Hermione folded the letter up, putting it in her dress pocket and dropped back into her seat, trying not to despair. The Order knew! She could deal with Harry and Ron's shock for when she got back to Hogwarts and had nothing but a changed attitude. But the Order would suspect something funny. They would investigate. They would expect her to come up with something. And then her secret would be out. Draco would never trust her again.  
  
She slammed her fist into the table, cursing Ron and Harry for telling the Order. Startled out of a nice owl-dream Pig hooted indignantly and shook himself free of the scarf. After Hermione gave him a drink of water, he set off back to the Burrow, narrowly missing a hanging tree branch.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"How did you get it from father?" Draco breathed, eyes fixed on the pipes.  
  
"There is one catch to the pipes. Only one who sees that there is danger to them or others can make it play. Your father wished to use it in his work, but as he was the one making the peril, the pipes would not play." Mrs. Malfoy said, almost to herself. "He threw them out and I picked them up after he left. Your father didn't know the catch."  
  
She looked over at her son.  
  
"He's not really one to read into things." She smiled.  
  
Draco was amazed. His mother was showing courage and a will that he had never seen in his life. His hands reached out and closed around the pipes. His mother let him inspect them as she gathered up the wrapping on the bed.  
  
"Aren't you scared?" Draco asked his mother, who looked up questioningly.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"This is dangerous magic. It's Dark Magic. Are you so sure I should be using it?"  
  
Draco's mother smoothed back her son's hair and kissed his forehead.  
  
"It's not dark, my dear. If your father had used it, it would indeed be dark. But when it's used to protect the innocent, why then it's the best magic one could wield."  
  
Mrs. Malfoy walked her son to her door and tucked the pipes into his pocket.  
  
"I hope that there will never arise a time to use them, but if one does arise, don't be afraid to use them. Although they may kill one, they may save many."  
  
She closed the door, leaving her son standing in the hallway thinking over what she had just said. He felt the cold weight of the pipes next to his leg and suddenly felt more secure.  
  
He suddenly got an idea and with a new determination and excitement, he headed off towards Hermione's room, calling the house elves as he went.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione lingered in the kitchen for a while, staring into the dying coals in the stove. She had debated sending a letter of her own to Ron, Harry, and the Order, but that idea soon died when she found she couldn't really sound the words for how she felt. Everything sounded corny and that was exactly what would make the Order investigate.  
  
She pulled herself from the table and went into the hallway on her way to her room, letting the cold, musty air of the hallway wash over her face, hot and pink from the hot kitchen.  
  
"Look what the cat dragged in. I had hoped that Master Draco left you for dead when he came in here without you," Maurel sneered, watching Hermione through narrow eyes as she walked past.  
  
"You've been dead a long time already, haven't you? What a pity." Hermione said as she walked up the stairs.  
  
"But I'm still here and I'm watching you. I know a Mudblood should not be in here under good circumstances and is infuriates me that you're treated with so much respect!" Maurel called after Hermione, who only waved at her from behind her back and disappeared down the velvet hallway.  
  
By this time, she could only guess that her room would be the only one unlocked, so she tried doors as she walked down the hallway until she got to a doorway which surprisingly had the curtains pulled back, revealing the heavy mahogany door in its whole. She tried the handle and the door swung open.  
  
It was her room, but instead of the depressing Victorian furniture and musty darkness, the room was lit up in greens and reds as mistletoe and holly hung from her ceilings. Her bed posts were wrapped in silver gilt and a fire merrily burned a Yule log in the fireplace.  
  
Hermione looked around her confusingly, checking to make sure she had the right room. She could see her trunk in the corner and her pajamas draped over the chair by the window. Yes, it was her room but it was no longer dismal.  
  
Draco appeared at the doorway, balancing a tray heaping with food and biting his lip in concentration. He looked up and flashed Hermione a bright smile that made her heart jump in her chest. She came forward and helped Draco place the tray on the ground in front of the fire.  
  
As soon as his hands were free Draco pulled Hermione into a hard embrace. He ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed her, taking in her fragrance and savoring the feel of her hair running through his fingers like spun silk. His fingers got caught in her curls and he laughed, detangling his fingers and staring to set the food out.  
  
"This is really beautiful," Hermione said wonderingly as he set out first turkey, mashed potatoes, steak and kidney pie, and finally plum pudding.  
  
"Thanks. I thought that since we don't celebrate it much, you'd appreciate a little glitz and glamour."  
  
They sat in the warmth of the fire and each other's arms, eating their Christmas dinner, whispering and giggling as though they were five year old children. Draco suddenly felt his dream pouring out of him. He went into detail of the figures and actions in his dream, with Hermione staring into the fire, listening and thinking. When he was finished, he felt physically spent, like he had just run a marathon. Hermione snuggled him closer, trying to calm his racing heart. When it did calm she kissed him and detangled herself from his arms.  
  
Hermione rolled over on to her stomach, fingering the tassels on the rug. Draco lay on his side beside her, thinking about nothing in particular. Hermione sighed and laid her head down, facing away from Draco and towards the heat of the fire. She closed her eyes and dozed off...  
  
A piece of paper caught Draco's eye on the ground beside Hermione. He picked it up, unfolding it carefully and sitting up, catching the light to read the words...  
  
"You need to find some incriminating evidence fast because break is almost over.. leave a dead rat in his sheets or something because he's going to Azkaban anyway.."  
  
Draco read the letter twice, the words flying through his head, his blood pumping painfully hard in his brain. He looked over the letter at Hermione's back, feeling the tears well up in his eyes, the betrayal and the bitterness threatening to burst through his heart. Could she have been sent here to get him and his family in Azkaban? Excuses flew through his brain: she was blackmailed, Ron was joking, the letter was sent to the wrong person. But no excuse seemed legitimate and he was left with the truth laughing in his face.  
  
Draco folded up the letter numbly and put it in his pocket. He could feel his anguish slowly being replaced by anger. This past week had been a joke. He felt repulsed at himself when he thought of all the secrets he had divulged to her, all the times he held her in his arms, the trust they shared..or thought they shared.  
  
He shook her shoulder softly and she turned over on her back. He smiled and pulled her to her feet.  
  
"Are we going somewhere?" Hermione asked, sleepily.  
  
"No," Draco answered softly, smoothing back her hair. "But I do want to ask you a question, and I want you to be truthful."  
  
"I would never be dishonest," Hermione said smiling, leaning up to kiss him. Draco chuckled, pulling his face away. Hermione watched him confusingly as he circled to the other side of the bed.  
  
"What did you do while I was asleep in my fever?" Draco asked, looking over her head, refusing to look into her eyes.  
  
"I sat with you, remember?" Hermione replied. "You already knew that."  
  
"Oh, I know that, but it seems amazing to me that you could sit with me for almost 24 hours and not get up or have to do something. I was out cold, so how did you amuse yourself? I know you didn't just sit there and sew."  
  
"I don't sew."  
  
"I know that!" Draco said, his voice rising. "It illustrates my point. My point is that you had to have done something and I want to know what it is."  
  
Hermione was speechless for a moment, her tongue refusing to move. The shock seemed to have spread throughout her entire body, making her vocally inept. She finally regained her composer after a few moments and looked around helplessly.  
  
"What I did was nothing of interest and otherwise none of your business. Why are you bringing this up now?"  
  
"It just occurred to me while I was lying there with you that there is a lost day wherein you must have done something." Draco paused, running his fingers through his silver hair. He looked up and his eyes narrowed.  
  
"Your letter was also a hint."  
  
Hermione gasped and put her hand to her breast. It was gone. She looked up at Draco, who was fingering the letter in his hand and smiling bitterly. She started at him in disbelief and slight panic.  
  
"You read my letter?!"  
  
"I knew that your friends had a low opinion of me but I never would have thought they'd go as far as to send someone to screw me over. Tell me, was the plan to lure me in and then go from there, or was that just for you?"  
  
Hermione looked into his face, which had changed into a mask of pain and sadness.  
  
"You had no right to read my letter!"  
  
"No, but it was good that I did, wasn't it?" Draco said, leaning over the bed. "I mean, if I hadn't, who knows where I would have ended up?" He paused, as if thinking. "Oh wait, that was in the letter too, wasn't it? Azkaban, with my father."  
  
Hermione felt her heart being ripped apart with both hands, but she wasn't about to give up just yet.  
  
"I might have had that intent in mind at first, but once I got to know you, it became different!"  
  
"Different how? Did you suddenly decide it'd be more satisfying to toy with my emotions before locking me up?" Draco paused. "I felt real happiness when I was with you, but then, like a harpy you-," Draco choked on his words, swallowing them until he could contain himself.  
  
"Was it worth it, Hermione? Can you honestly say it was worth it?"  
  
Hermione felt nauseous and the room spun around her. She sat down abruptly on the bed, back to Draco, and held her head in her hands.  
  
"Did you like it? Did you like it when I told you my secrets? I bet you laughed, didn't you? I bet you basked in it." Draco said cruelly in her ear, making Hermione choke and fall sideways onto her bed, her body racked with sobs.  
  
Draco regarded her coldly. If he had seen himself, he would have noticed a frightening resemblance to his father. He walked over to the door and opened it, looking back at the girl sobbing violently on the bed. The pipes pressed hard against his thigh and he almost thought they were turning colder.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Hermione."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Want to know what Ionracas means? It means "innocence." 


	13. Loyalty

Disclaimer: Let's all say it together, shall we? "J.K. Rowling is the author of Harry Potter and all its characters, plots, and made up words." Very good! A+!  
  
A/N: I was recently listening to my friend's music and I found a song that reminded me so strongly of this fan fiction that I just needed to tell you guys. The song is called "October" and it's by Evanescence. It pretty much sums up all of what Hermione is feeling in this chapter and a little of last. I'm not one of those talented people who can integrate the song into the fic itself, but I'm just putting it out there so, if you want, you can download it or something. And even if you can't connect it to this fic, it's a pretty song. Woah, long Author's Note!  
  
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Christmas Morning..  
  
Hermione felt heavy. As she lay on the red velvet bed she felt that her heart was slowly pushing her further and further into the mattress. Dry leaves of limp mistle toe lay scattered around her head and throughout the room, even covering the abandoned dinner tray from the night before.  
  
The night before...  
  
The tears had long dried on Hermione's face, leaving her skin tight and smudged. The warm sunlight shining through the pulled curtains tried it's hardest to coax the usual morning bustle into the house, but all of the family was still abed asleep. All but Hermione, who didn't feel remotely like getting up. She felt like her heart should keep pushing her further down into the mattress until it enveloped her entirely.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco awoke refreshed. The gray sunlight shone through his window, sending a pleasant cold shiver down his spine. He pushed back the heavy covers and pulled on his robe, pushing back his hair as he did so.  
  
It was Christmas morning...  
  
His window lay open, leaving his room strangely chilled. He rushed over and pushed it shut with some difficulty, cringing as the latch squeaked shrilly from disuse. He turned around, his back against the cold glass, and noticed that the house elves had built up the fire in his room and added a bit of holly above his bed while he was sleeping. He fingered it, smelling his fingers for the sharp scent of the berries. The smell brought a frown to his face and he thought back to the night before.  
  
The night before..  
  
Draco didn't feel much remorse. All the remorse he could feel was that she was still in the house, probably in her room writing more letters to Potter. Probably arranging the transportation for the dead rat...  
  
He looked down at the berries in his hand, which had been crushed by the increasing pressure of his fingers. He wiped the red goop from his fingers on his robe. He shook the remaining holly into a nearby waste basket, inadvertently pushed any doubts or regrets he might have felt back to the pit of his stomach, and put on a smile to face the day...  
  
The pipes still lay in his pocket, a cold persistent reminder against his thigh.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Her misery had about doubled since the night before, but it was at a point of helplessness. She was dry and all she could do was stare at her own hands as a person often does when they blame themselves. She didn't know what to do next. How could she face the day..  
  
Hermione was just dozing off when a tap resounded on her window. Errol's saucer sized eyes were seen peeking in through the glass.  
  
Hermione pushed herself up with two hands and lumbered across the room to the window. Her foot steps sounded loudly over the crispy leaves, even with the deep carpet underneath. As Hermione opened the window Errol dropped the letter into her hands and promptly flew off. Hermione stared until Errol's speck disappeared against the sky and then looked down at the letter in her hands. A letter is what started this whole thing, she thought. A letter and my foolishness.  
  
The letter lay torn up and unread on her bedside table as she sat on her window seat and lay her forehead against the cold glass. Her tears, suddenly found, froze as frost falling down her face as they touched the glass. It was Christmas Morning and Hermione found herself wondering if it really was all her fault..  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Where's the mousy Mudblood?" Maurel asked suspiciously as Draco walked past her to the kitchen.  
  
"Merry Christmas," Draco answered as the kitchen door swung shut behind him. The warm smell of freshly baked bread filled his nostrils, as well as the smell of burnt ash. He strode over to the table, where the bread was placed in a small wicker basket. As he grabbed a roll, however, the smell of ash grew stronger. Draco looked up, his mouth filled with the bread, and met his father's eyes.  
  
Lucius was leaning against the stove, enveloped completely in a dark green cloak. His hand could be seen poking through, fingering his cane's silver top. His long hair was pulled back gracefully with a black ribbon low near his neck and he was wearing boots that tapered neatly to a point near his toes.  
  
"You're up early." Draco said, swallowing the bread that slid uncomfortably like a lump down his throat.  
  
"Just arrived home, actually," Lucius answered, reaching forward for a roll. He turned around to the counter and starting cutting it in half, spreading butter on it as he did so. Draco watched his back, impressively large and straight.  
  
"I was wondering if you wanted to come out with me tonight," Lucius said, turning around.  
  
"Go with you?" Draco breathed, watching his father's face for anything that could give him or the scheme he was obviously planning away. "Where?"  
  
"My co-workers and I are getting together tonight for a little Yule-tide celebration. You know, being Christmas and all."  
  
"Your co-workers from the Ministry?" Draco asked, walking to the ice chest.  
  
"No."  
  
Draco stared at the open ice chest, seeming to look for the milk. He could actually feel his blood turn cold as his Father's cane tapped impatiently on the side of the stove.  
  
"Who, then?" Draco asked, turning around with the milk bottle.  
  
"Don't act dumb, boy. You've been working up to tonight for your whole life." Lucius eyes glittered, but he didn't move. "This is a test of your loyalty to your blood and to your father."  
  
Draco faced his father, sipping the milk he had poured into the glass as his father was speaking. Test of loyalty? His father was right. He wasn't dumb. He knew exactly what loyalty meant. His dream came back to him in a red flash and he had to put the glass down for fear of spilling.  
  
It was loyalty or else...the dream was so vivid...  
  
"What are we doing tonight?" Draco asked, wiping his hands on his robe.  
  
"You're coming?" Lucius breathed, his hand gripping the cane.  
  
Draco breathed, knowing his answer but hesitant. His father was staring at him so vehemently that he felt scared. Something fierce was filling his father and Draco could almost feel the heat and excitement that seemed to radiate from his billowing green cloak.  
  
"Yes," Draco said after a few moments, picking up his glass again. "It's Christmas, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes," Lucius said, his smile seeming to reach the edges of his eyes. "And a merry one it will be." He walked towards the door leading back to the hall and stopped.  
  
"What about your Mudblood?"  
  
"What about her?" Draco said, staring into his cup.  
  
"I can't have her tagging along like a lost puppy." Lucuis said reproachfully.  
  
"She won't," Draco said.  
  
Lucius stared at his son, noticing that his tone had changed from the past few days. He had agreed all too easily, he thought as he went into the hall. But Lucius wasn't going to question anything. This just might be the chance his son needed. He was beginning to remind Lucius disgustingly of a Mudblood, or at least someone with a conscience. He needed a reality check fast, and tonight was the perfect chance to bring him closer to the family, Lucius thought, smiling, as he went into his study and closed his door sharply.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
... the letter lay torn up and unread on her bedside table.. 


	14. Muggleteers Reunited

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and while I'm on the subject, when is the 6th book coming out? If it takes as long as the fifth book I'll be very put out.  
  
A/N: Yay! I finally got some humor back in the story!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As the sun slowly set, Hermione finally found peace. She drifted softly into sleep, welcoming the brief respite from the hole that seemed to be growing inside her, a hole that seemed infinitely deep and pitch black. As the sun set Hermione slept.  
  
And as Hermione slept Lucius approached her bedroom.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lucius, for the first time in his life, felt uneasy. He welcomed and savored Draco's sudden interest in the family affairs; however he couldn't stop himself wondering what swayed Draco. Then he remembered the Mudblood...  
  
She was pretty, smart, and convenient, that he couldn't deny. But she was also sharp, rude, and rebellious, all of which he despised. He had also noticed that the rebellious spirit had begun to rub off on Draco. But it came to him that Hermione had not been with him this morning in the kitchen when he spoke with Draco. Lucius was not ignorant, but he wanted to find out for sure..  
  
Hermione's door was closed and the room was quiet. Lucius felt the doorknob and turned it quietly.  
  
He could immediately sense the cool feeling of peace in the room. The curtains were drawn except for a slim crack of sunlight which shone across the rug. It fell upon the sleeping form on the bed, drawing Lucius' attention away from the window. He didn't have to go any closer to Hermione to know that something had gone wrong between her and his son. He could feel the sorrow creeping up his spine and into his chest, and he relished in it. He had nothing to worry about..  
  
He had to get ready for tonight...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was in his room, fiddling with the pipes. Ever since the night before they had grown strangely cold. He had rubbed the shiny metal with his hands, even held it in front of the fire, but nothing could warm the chill that resided in the metal.  
  
His mother had been creepily vague in what she wanted Draco to do with the pipes. Draco felt that his mother expected him to do something, like she had loaded a gigantic burden or responsibility on his shoulders. But Draco still couldn't understand the meaning of the pipes, the sheer magnitude of their cry...  
  
He slipped them into his pocket instinctively and sat on his bed, following the stitch of his bedspread with his finger. He hadn't seen Hermione all day and he found himself sneering in disgust himself for even speculating on what she was doing.  
  
But he still wondered...  
  
He stood up and paced to the window, trying to banish any lingering feelings of regret or pity. He had no time to think about the Mudblood. He had to think about tonight, what he was doing with his father. He felt excited, like he was finally delving into something important.  
  
A knock resounded at the door and Lucius entered. The pipes grew so cold that Draco winced. Lucius apparently didn't notice, for he just removed a sack from inside his cloak and threw it on the bed.  
  
"For tonight," he simply said before leaving as quickly as he had entered. Draco could feel the pipes calm as he made his way over to the sack. He opened the sack gingerly and pulled out a cloak.  
  
A black, hooded cloak. A Death-eater's cloak.  
  
For tonight.  
  
Draco felt sick as he held the cloak at arm's length. He was in deep. He dropped the cloak on the bed and went to the window. A Yule-tide celebration, yeah right. Draco pulled the curtains closed.  
  
Just in time to miss Harry and Ron fly past...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Is this the right window?" Harry asked, hovering next to Ron.  
  
"How should I know?" said Ron, trying to peer in. "They all look the same. This whole house reminds me of a mausoleum."  
  
"What did you expect?" Harry said, surveying the gray sky for chances of snow. "It obviously wasn't going to be painted pink with a welcome mat."  
  
"Hardy har har." Ron rolled his eyes and moved on down the line of windows. "Hey! This one has a crack!"  
  
"Let me see!" Harry said, pushing Ron away from the window.  
  
"Watch it!" Ron cried, as he recovered his grip. "My broom is still frosty from the ride here."  
  
"It certainly didn't help with you flying through CLOUDS!" Harry said, straining his eyes to see though the darkness.  
  
"I wanted to see if I could lie on them!"  
  
"Ron...they're made of air."  
  
"HOW WAS I TO KNOW THAT?"  
  
Harry gave Ron an exasperated look. "I'm going to tap on it and we'll see who comes to look out"  
  
"What if it's not her?" Ron asked nervously.  
  
"I can hide in the trees," Harry said, pulling off his riding gloves.  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"Well, Ron. There are some clouds over there. Why don't you go lie on them?"  
  
Ron frowned and sped down to the nearest tree. Harry chuckled and tapped sharply on the glass.  
  
"Come on!" Ron voice sounded from the brush. Harry crashed into the top on the tree and buried himself as far as he could into the branches. They both looked out expectantly at the window...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione was pulled from her sleep by a tapping at her window. The room was still dark, so as she walked groggily across the room to her window she banged her shin on the armchair by the fireplace.  
  
"Shit!" She rubbed the place sorely as she pulled back the curtains and blinked against the sunlight.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"There she is!" Ron sped out of the tree, nearly knocking Harry off his branch. Hermione reeled back from her window as a frosted freckled face nearly broke through her glass.  
  
"Smooth Ron. Smooth," Harry said, calmly riding up beside him.  
  
"I lost my grip," Ron said, rubbing his nose.  
  
"Right." Harry went forward and knocked on the window. "Hermione?"  
  
Hermione rushed forward and pried open her window  
  
"Harry!" She cried, pulling him into the room. Ron, trying to contain his dignity, flew in and landed on the bed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" She asked, watching the two pick leaves out of their hair.  
  
"Didn't you get our letter?" Harry asked, ruffling his hair to its normal disorder.  
  
"Letter?" Hermione asked, still sleepy and minorly confused.  
  
"Yeah, the Order got wing of something major with Voldemort.."  
  
"Harry." Ron said, wincing.  
  
"Get off it, Cloud Boy!" Harry continued. "Anyway, something big is happening tonight and the Order thought it would be safest to bring you back. We sent you a letter, but I guess it was lost.."  
  
"Idiot Errol!" Ron said vehemently, jumping off the bed and pulling off his riding gloves. "That bird is just going to keel over and die one of these days, mark my words!"  
  
"So will you if you keep trying to nap on clouds like a freaking care bear!"  
  
"WILL YOU JUST LET THAT REST?" Ron cried, throwing up his hands.  
  
"Will you guys shut up? Do you want Draco to come in here and find you?" Hermione said rushing to the door and pushing it completely closed.  
  
"Draco...? Oh, Malfoy! No, he won't hear us. He's too busy trying on a new present from Daddy he just got." Ron said, leaning on the bedside table. The torn up letter crumpled under his palm.  
  
"Hermione? What's this?" Harry asked, coming up next to Ron to inspect the papers.  
  
"Oh...that letter." Hermione replied softly as Harry and Ron looked up at her in confusion.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco sat watching the black cloak from his arm chair, draped across his bed like a forbidding shadow. He sat there for a while, staring at the cloak and the clock, which was ticking loudly in the silence of his room, ticking down to the time when he left with his father.  
  
He suddenly felt like he needed to walk. He headed out of the hallway, walking at a slow pace down the velveted hallways and dark corridors. As he walked past Hermione's room, he paused, listening hard for signs of movement. The door was open a crack and he approached it cautiously to listen. He suddenly heard a muffled exclamation and the door closed shut all the way. He stood outside, trying to listen through the door but the thick mahogany blocked any sound he could have heard.  
  
He suddenly felt his hand moving to the door and his knuckles knocking against the wood.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Who's that?" Ron asked, looking at the door in slight panic.  
  
"And what's this?" Harry said, looking at the pieces of paper in Ron's hand. "This is our letter."  
  
He looked up at Hermione, who was opening her closet.  
  
"Get in the closet, quickly!" She shoved them both into the closet, in spite of some mild protestation from them both, and closed the door. Her door opened just as she turned around. She breathed in sharply as Draco walked in slowly, looking around.  
  
"I thought I heard something in here," Draco said, looking around.  
  
"Probably just me talking to myself," Hermione said quickly. He was so beautiful. But he'd changed. The last time she had seen him look this way was in the Hallways at Hogwarts, when he was calling her a Mudblood and sneering down at her from his pedestal.  
  
"Talking to yourself?" Draco asked skeptically.  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered, putting more pressure on the closet door.  
  
Draco's eyebrows rose as he looked at the girl facing him. She had obviously recovered a bit from last night, but from the dark lines under her eyes he could tell she hadn't slept a lot.  
  
"You should clean up in here," he said, looking at the holly and mistle-toe lying about.  
  
"Clean up after yourself," Hermione replied, raising her chin defiantly.  
  
Draco kicked a few leaves with his toe.  
  
"This is your own fault, you know."  
  
"You disgust me.."  
  
"No really, it is."  
  
"Get out."  
  
Draco sighed and crushed a few leaves under his heel. As he did, Hermione saw with horror that Ron and Harry's brooms were leaning against the wall by her bed. "Oh, shit.."  
  
"You know you have about half a week left, you know."  
  
Hermione didn't say anything. She got out her wand slowly from her pocket. A warning from the Ministry is better than Harry and Ron's exposure.  
  
Draco walked towards the door. As his back was turned Hermione quickly whispered, "Wingardium Leviosa."  
  
The brooms lifted up, sliding under the bed as Hermione directed with her wand. Draco turned around just as the brooms disappeared under the bed. He eyed her outstretched wand.  
  
"That wouldn't be very smart," he said calmly. Hermione put it back in her pocket, looking a bit sheepish for show's sake.  
  
"You have the house to yourself tonight, so if you're in the mood for some more spying, tonight's the night. But if you break anything, Father won't be happy." Draco smirked at her from the doorway.  
  
"You should know better than I," Hermione said softly.  
  
Draco's smirk faded.  
  
"I do and I've learned from it. And I don't need any of your 'guidance' to help me." Draco turned on his heels and strode out, leaving the door open. Hermione, after a few moments, went forward and closed it again.  
  
Harry and Ron burst through the closet, gulping large breaths on air.  
  
"Hermione! I fear closed spaces!" Ron gasped, walking to the bed and sitting down. He looked down at the crunch of his shoes on the leaves.  
  
"Why IS there a bunch of dead leaves on your floor?"  
  
"And why did you tear up our letter?" Harry added, refusing to let the subject drop.  
  
"You have a lot of explaining to do." Ron said, sitting down on his bed, as an owl from the Ministry knock politely on Hermione's window.  
  
Hermione didn't know where to start...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Wow! Riding ponies is fun! But do you know what's even FUNNER (besides saying "funner?") Writing reviews! It's a blast! Fun fun fun fun fun! It's like one big party!  
  
Please? 


	15. Explosion

Disclaimer: Hmm, I'm very proud of the plot right now, so it's mine. But the characters are not....the end.  
  
A/N: YAY! Long chapter! And it has my three favorite characters in it! I think I enjoyed writing this chapter more than any of the others.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron and Harry sat in utter silence, listening awe-struck as Hermione related her story from the beginning. Hermione found that the more she talked, the more details and secrets she added in, soon losing herself in her story and forgetting Harry and Ron's presence entirely. When her voice finally faded, the silence was so immense it rung in all of their ears. You could hear a pin drop, if someone just happened to have one handy.  
  
Harry recovered first, closing his mouth and swallowing loudly. It had started to rain, the world outside too warm for snow or sleet. The drops fell lightly on the window, throwing a soft gray shadow across the room. Thunder could be heard faintly, echoing across the vast emptiness of the moor.  
  
"All of this is the truth?" Harry asked, running his fingers through his hair and taking off his glasses to rub his eyes.  
  
"You kissed Malfoy?" Ron asked, still staring at her with his mouth open.  
  
"Ron, you're starting to drool," Harry said softly, standing up and walking to the window where Hermione stood in shadow. He pulled her into an embrace and held her close for a few moments. She felt so familiar on the outside. But on the inside, Harry could detect something different, a new sense of caution and trust.  
  
"Why didn't you send us any letters? Told us any of this?" Harry asked, holding Hermione at arm's length.  
  
Hermione only shook her head and smiled softly.  
  
"You kissed Malfoy?" Ron asked, oblivious to the fact that that question had been asked already.  
  
"Was it because of...?" Harry jerked his finger over his shoulder at Ron, who had stood up and was softly muttering to himself.  
  
"She kissed him. She actually kissed that hair-brained prick! I bet HE kissed HER. I bet she didn't-"  
  
"Ron!" Harry walked over and hit him on the back of the head sharply.  
  
"OW! What?" Ron asked sourly, rubbing his head and sitting back down on the bed.  
  
"Do you know the silence game?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah-"  
  
"Then play it and shut up. I'll give you a cookie if you win." Harry said, straightening up. Ron shot Harry back a look of pure poison, but held his tongue. Harry turned to Hermione, who was watching the rain fall like a sheet over the Manor Grounds.  
  
"Well, what do you want to do, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione turned and stared at him blankly.  
  
"How should I know?" Hermione turned back to the window. "Why did you come here in the first place?"  
  
"To take you home!" Harry said pleadingly. "But you might know something that could help the Order."  
  
"You kissed him, for God's sake. You BETTER know something!" Ron cried, throwing up his hands. Harry ignored the outburst.  
  
"Do you have any idea where they're going?" Harry asked, lowering his voice to a more civil level, hoping Ron would get the message and follow suit. Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Do you know anyone who would?"  
  
Again, Hermione shook her head "no." Harry sat down next to Ron, leaning his head against the head board to think. All three sat in silence listening to the rain and the occasional bursts of thunder. Suddenly Ron jumped up.  
  
"What about Mrs. Malfoy?"  
  
"What about her?" Harry asked, lifting his head.  
  
"Would she know?"  
  
"Not if Hermione meant what she implied, about her not being very keen on Lucius' practices. She wouldn't want to get herself into it."  
  
"No."  
  
All heads turned to Hermione, who had crossed to the fire place and was fingering the decorative carving on the mantle. She looked at them thoughtfully, the first genuine look of emotion they had seen her use since she had finished her tale. "She might not like it, but she makes it her business to know what Lucius is up to, for Draco's sake."  
  
"Malfoy's sake." Ron corrected.  
  
"Draco's sake.." Hermione said again, softly. Ron stared at Hermione, the realization finally settling heavily into his stomach. He nodded slowly.  
  
"Draco.." Ron grimaced. "It'll take some getting used to."  
  
"Plenty of time later," Harry said, walking swiftly towards the door. "We need to find Mrs. Malfoy. Where would she be?" Harry opened the door and turned around to face Hermione.  
  
"Draco said she usually left Christmas Eve, but she's probably back by now." The three of them left the room, walking slowly down the darkened hallway, all the more dark with the drawn curtains and falling rain.  
  
Ron and Harry, holding their brooms tightly, looked closely at the curtained walls that they passed with mixed horror and curiosity at the masked faces smiling evilly at them, the forbidden objects which radiated the crimes they had committed. The hallways felt suffocated, but they followed Hermione, who was oblivious to the items they passed. She was listening at every corner for the sounds of an approaching person, ready to pull Harry and Ron with her behind the curtains if the need arose.  
  
But they met no one. The house was completely silent. Hermione, Ron, and Harry approached the front hall. Maurel was dozing quietly in her portrait as the three of them crept down the stairs. Hermione looked towards the doorway where Lucuis kept his cane and coat. Both were gone. And she saw, to her dismay, that Mrs. Malfoy's coat was gone as well.  
  
Hermione turned towards Harry and Ron, pulling them close into a huddle of sorts.  
  
"She's gone. She might have gone with them, or maybe she never came back from last night. But she's gone."  
  
"Well, great! Just...wonderful!" Ron whispered fiercely.  
  
"Well, well, welly well well!" a savoring voice sounded from behind them. They flew around, wands held at arm's length towards the voice. "Oh no.." Hermione thought.  
  
Maurel was regarding them from her portrait, arms folded, and an unpleasant sound coming from her throat.  
  
"I didn't think there was job perk to bring friends," Maurel said. "And the famous Harry Potter! I'd bow but, you know." Maurel laughed. "You're in for a small bit of trouble, little Mudblood."  
  
"Not if you don't tell," Hermione said, walking slowly towards the painting.  
  
"Oh, but this is the amusement I've been waiting for since you got here!" Maurel said, clapping her hands. "When Master Lucius finds out you brought them here, you'll be punished!" Maurel thought for a moment. "Maybe even killed." She thought for a moment longer. "I think I'd like that!" She sneered at Hermione, who was just below her.  
  
"I can't let you do that," Hermione said softly, raising her wand towards the painting.  
  
"Oh, that was cute!" Maurel cooed, "But I'm afraid you have don't have a say in it! Oh, I can't wait!" She started to move to the next painting, when she noticed with surprise Ron pointing his wand at the line of paintings next to her. She smiled and turned to go the other way, but found with dismay that a wand, Harry's wand, was pointed that way as well. Both he and Ron were ready to set their line aflame. She was penned in, with no place to go.  
  
"You can't do magic outside of school," she said softly.  
  
"I can," Ron said. "I'd only get a warning."  
  
"I've been pardoned since the last time," Harry said in a low voice.  
  
Maurel turned to Hermione, who lowered her wand.  
  
"I can't afford it." Maurel smiled. "But seeing as you ARE made of paint, you can't go anyway but sideways. It looks like you're stuck." Maurel's smile faded.  
  
"What do you want?" Maurel asked angrily.  
  
"We need you to tell us where Draco went with his father."  
  
Maurel smiled and settled back, folding her arms again and chuckling softly. "Really, Mudblood, I would have thought you knew me better."  
  
"I will set you on fire," Hermione said, raising her wand again.  
  
"And get kicked out of your school? Not you, Granger,"  
  
"This is pointless.." Harry started.  
  
Hermione quickly moved her wand towards Harry.  
  
"INCENDIO!"  
  
Harry's line of portraits burst into a roar of flames, white hot and fierce, licking the paint. The air filled with the smell of ash. Hermione turned to the stunned and frozen Maurel.  
  
"Looks like I'm out, then," Hermione smiled. She fingered her wand and motioned for Harry to move and take her place in front of Maurel. "A fire on one side, potentially deadly magic on the other. Now Maurel, where did you say Lucius went?"  
  
Maurel had moved to the other side of her portrait, as far away from the flames as she could get. "You'll set the whole house on fire!" she screamed over the roar of the flames.  
  
"And you with it if you don't hurry up!" Hermione said sharply in return. "Tell us or I'll let the fire engulf everything."  
  
Maurel shielded her face from the building smoke and turned to go Ron's way, but jerked back at his incoming wand. "OK! Just stop this insufferable fire!"  
  
Hermione lazily lifted her wand. "Finite Incantatum." The flames died down and disappeared, leaving the room hazy with smoke and Ron coughing.  
  
"Hey Hermione, think you could clear the air or something?"  
  
Hermione ignored Ron as she stepped up to Maurel, smiling in a smug like way. Maurel's eyes had darkened with fright and she backed as far back as she could.  
  
"You're a wicked child." she started to say.  
  
"Wicked? Me?" Hermione said, laughing harshly. "You're the family that relishes in Muggle blood! You find pleasure in innocents' pain! Your world is a dark one full of destruction and fire, ironically much like what almost killed you just now." Hermione, face singed partly black, looked up at the frightened face above her.  
  
Harry and Ron looked at their best friend in shock, surprised and slightly horrified at the malevolence she was showing.  
  
"I am fully prepared to torch this whole house right now! I've had enough of it! Did you hear me? ENOUGH!" Hermione cried, voice heightening.  
  
"Hermione, calm down.." Harry started to say.  
  
"Harry! SHUT UP!" Hermione cried, wheeling around at Harry and Ron, who backed quicky away. "If we don't act right now, Draco could be killed or converted by Voldemort! We need answers, RIGHT NOW!" Hermione screamed, turning back to Maurel, who shielded her face.  
  
"Alright! Alright!" Maurel cried, panicking. Hermione rose her wand, breathing heavily from the emotion that had exploded from inside of her. All of her rage, her despair, her suffering was ready to come flaming out of her wand if she didn't get some answers right then.  
  
"Hermione, you're bleeding," Ron said softly, feeling ready to cry.  
  
Hermione looked down and realized she had been biting at her lip. Blood covered her chin and neck where it had run down in small streams. Hermione started laughing softly, growing louder until she clutched at her stomach in complete hilarity. Ron and Harry approached her slowly from behind while Maurel stared wide-eyed at the half-crazed girl laughing hysterically. Hermione gulped for breath as tears of mirth ran down her face, where they soon changed into tears of absolute helplessness as she started to sob. Ron pulled her into his arms and held her gently, feeling her tears and blood run into the fabric of his sweater, rocking her back and forth.  
  
Harry went up to Maurel, drawing her eyes from the breakdown behind him.  
  
"Please, tell us."  
  
Maurel breathed in shakily.  
  
"Where did they go?" Harry asked.  
  
"Off the coast of Ireland," Maurel said softly.  
  
"What?" Harry asked confusingly. "Ireland is an island!!! How are we supposed to find where they are on the whole coast of Ireland?"  
  
Behind him, Hermione's weeping had died down to silent tears, but she still clung to Ron. They had sat down on the stairs, where Hermione was resting on Ron's shoulder and Ron was stroking her hair gently, talking to her softly. Maurel broke Harry's gaze and looked around her at the ash finally starting to settle as a thin blanket on the floor.  
  
Harry came up closer to Maurel's painting and spoke softly. "What are they doing? What are they planning to do?" Maurel's eyes strayed to where Ron and Hermione were sitting on the steps. "Please.."  
  
Maurel looked back at Harry and sighed. "Are you familiar with the legend of Donn?" Harry shook his head. "In Celtic legend there is a god, the god of the Dead. He is called Donn." Harry listened impatiently, nodding whenever she paused. "When he arrived on the shores of Ireland he was greeted by Eriu, who requested the honor of her name being used for the island he planned to conquer, but he refused."  
  
"Can we hurry this up?" Harry asked quickly. Maurel just gave him a sour look and closed her moth tightly. "Fine! Fine! Keep going! It's educational, really!" Harry said, sighing.  
  
"But he refused," Muarel continued, "It enraged Eriu, who called on the god of the sea, Manannan Mac Lir, to bury his army under the sea. It is said to be their final resting place and Donn is told to still exist there." Maurel stopped, obviously pleased with herself.  
  
"AND?!" Harry bellowed, feeling ready to rip her canvas apart in pure irritation.  
  
"You're supposed to be smart, figure it out for yourself!" Maurel said, back to her sneering self. Harry screamed in agitation and kicked the wall, unlatching Maurel's portrait. It fell to the ground with a thump and exclamation from Maurel.  
  
Harry took the portrait with both hands and raised his foot.  
  
"Tell me or I swear I will kick a hole right through your face!"  
  
"Voldemort is planning to use necromancy to arise the army of Donn. He's going to set them on Britain to lure Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge.." She broke out into fierce giggles and had to cover her mouth with her hand.  
  
Harry let go of the painting and rushed to where Ron and Hermione sat. He pulled them up and shoved Ron's broom into his hand.  
  
"We need to go. NOW!"  
  
"What?" Ron asked, following Harry to the door.  
  
"We need to search the coast of Ireland for ANY signs of necromancy.."  
  
"Necromancy? Isn't that illegal?" Ron asked, pulling Hermione onto the back on his broom.  
  
"Of course it is! We need to search the coast of Ireland for signs of it. That's where Malfoy will be."  
  
"The coast of Ireland? It's a freaking ISLAND!" Ron hollered after Harry as flew into the sky, now free of rain and close to sunset.  
  
"Good luck!" Maurel sniggered from the floor. Ron reached behind him for his wand as he was rising up.  
  
"RON! NOW!" Harry screamed at him from above.  
  
Ron pocketed his wand reluctantly.  
  
"You are SO lucky!" Ron yelled at Maurel as he rose after Harry with Hermione on the back of his broom.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N:  
*Donn: God of the Dead, his army was called the Milesians. He was said to be one of the Sons of Mil, and therefore part of the group of mythological beings who overcame the Tuatha De Danaan and thereby became the new rulers of Ireland.  
*Tuatha De Danaan: the Irish race of gods who descended from the goddess Danu; patrons of magic and arts  
* Eriu: one of the three goddesses after which Ireland was named  
* Necromancy: Magic used to raise the souls of the dead 


	16. Nasci Mortuus

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I am getting the papers so I can legally own Ton Felton.  
  
A/N: Finally! I took a break because I was in a play, but it's over now and I can write again! How refreshing! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The chill night air stung Draco's warm nose, despite the heavy black hood of his cloak. He could feel a slight mist in the air from the sea and he breathed it in deeply, enjoying the mild taste of salt on his tongue. The soft echo of the waves could be heard from a distance, although they would all be moving on to the beach when everyone arrived. No one else had arrived actually. It was just him and his father as of yet, somewhere.  
  
Well, he didn't know quite where they were, but he knew that they were NO WHERE near Berkshire. He had met his father outside the house and the only thing exchanged was a side look from his father. Apparently he thought Draco might not show. He almost didn't..  
  
The port key they used was a crumpled up piece of newspaper abandoned by the side of their fence. The trip was unusually long for a port key. Draco half expected that they had traveled to another country.  
  
But now that they had arrived and had been standing there a full ten minutes, Draco wasn't so sure he was wrong. They were no where in England that he knew of, and he had been most places. It was too open where they were, and usually in England you could see the lights of a nearby town, but all that he could see here were hills.  
  
And he was freezing!  
  
Not that there was a difference there. Even in England you were considered daft not bringing a jacket where ever you went. Still, half the chills Draco felt were from anticipation. The other half worked down his spine until even his Father noticed the trembling.  
  
"A little cold, son?" Lucius said from under his hood. Draco nodded, stamping his feet on the frozen ground to induce warmth. "We'll have to have you cloak hemmed a bit," Lucius said, turning his head towards the sea. "And it might be a good idea to wear a sweater under it next time."  
  
Next time..  
  
Suddenly they heard a pop as a man apperated behind them. They turned around just as Antonin Dolohov was straightening his cloak.  
  
"Little cold out here, Lucius," he remarked casually.  
  
"Antonin, glad to see you got out alright," Lucius said, shaking his hand.  
  
"Most of the Dementors couldn't care less what we do, as long as they get to feed," he smiled. "And they got plenty."  
  
Draco shivered. He would never get used to Dementors, however useful they were. He would put up with them, of course, but he surely wasn't planning on rooming with one. Antonin pulled off his hood and took in a deep breath. "It feels good to be out." Lucius nodded. "But who is this? I'm always the first to arrive." Antonin turned towards Draco.  
  
"My son has finally decided to join us."  
  
"Was he forced?"  
  
"No."  
  
Antonin walked towards Draco and pulled down Draco's hood. Draco looks up at him defiantly, his silver hair blowing up in the salty wind. "Glad to see you've developed some backbone." Antonin said softly. "When will the others be arriving?"  
  
"Any minute now, Antonin." Lucius said. "We should move down to the beach." He moved off towards the sound of the crashing waves.  
  
"Well go on, boy," Antonin said, coming up from behind Draco. "I'll follow. I need to leave a path."  
  
Antonin turned, outstreached his wand towards the inky sky, and said almost lazily, "Morsmordre." A red fire shot out of the end of his wand, spiraling up towards the sky and exploding in a burst of fireworks. The fire settled quickly into the shimmering shape of the Dark Mark. The burst was so bright that Draco squeezed his eyes tightly closed, but he could still see the fiery image against the darkness of his eyelids. The pipes in his pocket throbbed with a harsh cold against his leg. Antonin turned around and smiled at Draco.  
  
"Just so they know we're close." Antonin walked past Draco, who followed his retreating back away from the Dark Mark towards the beach.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"This is hopeless!"  
  
Ron flew up beside Harry, who had stopped in mid air to inspect the hills. "It's dark, Ireland is big, and what the hell can we do against dead people anyway?! Besides...." Ron continued, shifting uncomfortably on his broom, "...this wood is beginning to chafe."  
  
"We need to at least try. And maybe we'll find Dumbledore on his way to the scene." Harry looked at Ron and grimaced. "And Ron...WAY too much information."  
  
"I concur." Hermione said from the back of Ron's broom.  
  
"I see that you've regained your sanity." Harry said, flying slowly along, watching the coast for any signs of magic.  
  
"Has she ever!" Ron exclaimed, following Harry.  
  
"I thought that if he was to battle Death Eaters, it'd make sense for him to know what he was doing. I've been teaching him a little about the history of Ireland," Hermione said.  
  
"A 'little' is not the way to describe it," Ron muttered, following Harry faster along a cliffside.  
  
"What are we looking for anyway, Hermione? How do we spot necromancy?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, it's the same way to spot other magic: you just sense it. And if the necromancers are stupid enough, you'll see the fire."  
  
"Fire?" Ron asked, turning around to look at Hermione.  
  
"Keep you eyes on the cliff, Ron," Hermione said, tiredly. "Not fire like an inferno, but the normal signs of sparks or flames that come from the wand."  
  
"Oh." Ron said, flying a bit higher to avoid the sea spray. "And if not we'll just sense it?"  
  
"As best we can," Hermione said, sighing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
More Death Eaters were arriving. Guided by the Dark Mark they made their way to the beach, coming across the dunes as dark shadows and gathering around in a circle. They reminded Draco strongly of black beetles. He was half convinced that if he pulled down their hoods it would reveal a shiny black head and mandibles. No fire had been started on the sand. They all stood there in the cold listening to the silence and the occasional crashing wave as more black cloaked Death Eaters joined them. Very soon there were almost thirty Death Eaters. None of them spoke.  
  
Lucius stepped forward-or maybe it was Lucius. Draco couldn't tell one person from another anymore.  
  
"First off...Merry Christmas." Chuckles and sniggering could be heard from under the numerous black hoods. "You were all very wise to come here for what we do today will mark the next step in Voldemort's control."  
  
Draco breathed in shakily, suddenly feeling strong waves of doubt. "Do I even know what I'm doing? How deep is this?" Draco thought, his eyes going from hooded figure to hooded figure. "Now that I'm here, how can I ever get out again?"  
  
The Death Eaters pushed back their hoods and took out their wands. Lucius moved next to Draco and shot him an expectant look. Draco pushed back his hood and took out his wand.  
  
"Nasci Mortuus, Draco. Nasci Mortuus."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Look, down there!" Harry said, pointing forward to where a group of people had congregated on the beach.  
  
"Where?" Ron asked, looking to where Harry was pointing.  
  
"There! It's hard to see because they're all dressed in black but they aren't invisible."  
  
Harry flew down lower and alighted a little ways off behind a sand dune. Ron landed a little less gracefully.  
  
"Get off, Ron!" Hermione hissed, pushing the stunned Ron off of her chest. "It's a good thing you landed in SAND or else I would be dead."  
  
"Are you saying I'm fat?" Ron asked grumpily, brushing sand off his sweater.  
  
"No, but you did CRASH your broom!" Hermione replied severely.  
  
"Let's just hope none of them heard it," Harry said, looking over the dune.  
  
"Are you even sure this is the right group? It could be a party! Like a bon fire!" Ron asked, joining Harry and Hermione at the top of the dune.  
  
"Do you SEE a bon fire, Ron?" Harry countered back.  
  
"Well still! What's to say they're even what we're looking for?"  
  
"Draco." Hermione murmured. Ron and Harry looked over at Hermione. "I can see him from here." She looked behind her. "Look at that Dark Mark in the sky. This is it."  
  
They all paused as they watched the group of Death Eaters turn towards the sea, Draco smack in the middle. Hermione's new determination dwindled as she watched all of the arms outstretch towards the waves, wands held towards the sea.  
  
"Are we just going to sit here and watch an army of dead warriors come and massacre us all?!" Ron whispered fervently.  
  
"They won't kill us, Ron." Hermione murmured, watching the group. "Necromancy isn't like that."  
  
"Then why raise a battle in the first place if they can't fight?!" Ron cried, punching the sand in frustration.  
  
"Shut up, you nit wit!" Harry hissed, pushing Ron down again. "Necromancy is so illegal that the Ministry itself will come and inspect about it if they sense it. And dead guys roaming around Ireland will take a while to clean up! It will bring important people!"  
  
"But this is so STUPID! Why are we sitting here?!"  
  
"Enjoying the night air, perhaps?" a voice sounded from behind them.  
  
Hermione, Harry, and Ron were pulled roughly to their feet to meet the eyes of Rodolphus Lestrange. He smiled as he pulled back his hood.  
  
"How delightful! We never could have guessed we would be blessed with such guests as these!" Rodolphus and two other Death Eaters reached into their pockets, confiscating Harry, Hermione, and Ron's wands. They dragged them from behind the dune and onto the beach.  
  
"Lucius! Stop!" The wands lowered and Draco breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"What is it Rodolphus?" he asked crossly.  
  
"We have a few late party guests." He pushed Hermione, Harry, and Ron down on their knees, wands dug into the smalls of their backs.  
  
"Oh?" Lucius walked over to Rodolphus and looked down at Harry. "Oh, you." He sighed. "I should have guessed. You're getting so predictable, Potter." His eyes went to Ron.  
  
"And you've brought Arthur's little brat with you. Getting a bit careless." He finally saw Hermione, who was just waiting for his gaze, ready to meet it with her usual bold stare.  
  
"Well, how did YOU get here? I certainly didn't expect to see YOU again. How unpleasant."  
  
Draco came up next to his father and stared unbelievingly at Hermione. Hermione saw him and her look softened a bit. Her chin raised and her back straightened.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Draco whispered.  
  
"You should be asking yourself the same question," Hermione replied, suddenly feeling the world fall away until it was only her and Draco on that rocky beach.  
  
"I have..." Draco barely mouthed. But his father saw. His father saw very clearly that although Draco was bound to Voldemort by his blood and his father, he could never be truly his son. If he had to choose, he would pick the filthy Mudblood who up and took over their house, turning Lucius's life upside down.  
  
And it infuriated him..  
  
His father pulled Draco back by his hood, throwing him back into the group that had gathered behind him. Draco was caught by many hands, gripping hands that held him tightly and securely.  
  
"I thought I had gotten rid of you, but you'll always be there to make my life a little more hellish, won't you?" Lucius snarled, walking towards Hermione. Hermione said nothing. She only kneeled there looking up at the man whom she suddenly realized she wouldn't mind killing. Rodolphus's wand dug into her back sharply when she tried to stand up to face him, forcing her to kneel back down.  
  
"But do you know what's going to make it all better?" Hermione remained silent. "That when I kill you, they'll be no one left to mourn."  
  
"NO!" Draco screamed suddenly, fighting against the cold hands holding his arms back.  
  
"Do you see what you've done to my family?" Lucius asked Hermione, not looking at his son. "You've turned my own son against me."  
  
"It wasn't me, you stupid bastard." Hermione retorted under her breath. "If you hadn't been such an abusive prick than maybe he would have loved you more."  
  
Lucius made a gargling sound in his throat and kicked Hermione in the chest. Hermione doubled forward and choked on her own breath. Lucius grabbed Hermione by the hair with a strangled yell, forcing her up roughly to meet his face. Hermione gasped for breath and for the pain as Draco tried to run forward.  
  
"He does love me! He loves me like he SHOULD love his father!" He dragged Hermione towards Draco and stood in front his son.  
  
"Look upon this boy," he screamed in Hermione's face. "LOOK at this boy who is willing to give up everything, his family, his name, his PURIITY to be with a snot nosed little brat!" Lucius lowered his mouth by Hermione's ear and laughed softly. "He was there when you finally found life. And he will be here to watch you lose it." He threw Hermione down on the sand and pulled out his wand.  
  
"FATHER!" Draco cried, feeling his feet slip away from under him and his body fall to its knees.  
  
"But first, you will watch your world disintegrate!" Lucius said, regaining his composure. "And you will watch my son do it."  
  
Hermione flew up towards Lucius with a shriek, hands outstretched, when she was caught by Antonin and thrown back to the ground.  
  
Lucius turned around to Draco, who was crying silently into the sand. "Get up boy!" He walked over and pulled Draco up by the scruff of the neck. He pushed him towards the sea.  
  
"Nasci Mortuus, Draco!" Draco shook his head, tears silently falling to the dry sand beneath him.  
  
"NASCI MORTUUS, DRACO!" Lucius screamed, holding his wand to Hermione's chest.  
  
"Draco, no!" Harry yelled, trying to stand with Ron. Their Death Eaters kicked them back down, burying their faces into the sand.  
  
Draco turned towards the sea and held out his wand to the waves.  
  
"Draco!" Hermione cried out. Lucius kicked her down to her hands and held his wand to her back.  
  
"Do it now, Draco, or God help me, I will kill her!" Lucius said, his voice rising once more to meet the fury of the sea wind.  
  
Draco gulped back his sobbing as he raised his eyes to the ocean.  
  
"Nasci Mortuus..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: I'm sorry about the Nasci Mortuus" spell, because although I take French, my knowledge of Latin is limited to nothing. Thank you to the first few reviewers who corrected my mistakes! You helped me TREMENDOUSLY!! This was a long chapter, and probably took some time to read, so why does it matter if you take another minute to review it? It'll be fun..I'll give you a cookie!! 


	17. Mistake and Escape

Disclaimer: so, I legally own Tom Felton now. He's mine. He follows me around and cuts my food into bite sized pieces.  
  
A/N: This is sort of a short one, but although I knew I needed to get another chapter, I didn't know what would come next exactly. Honestly, I would rather have a good short chapter than a long terrible one. Thanks to all the reviewers! Cheers!  
  
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"Nasci Mortuus."  
  
Draco's voice faltered, but the words still rang clear across the silenced sand. Draco squeezed his eyes tight as an angry red beam shot violently out of his wand, spreading out like a blanket of light across the crashing waves to settle and disappear into the water.  
  
"Yes," breathed Lucius, watching the writhing sea hungrily. Hermione crouched under his wand, pushing down against the sand under her hands and holding her breath. Lucius looked down at her, his smile seeming to reach both ends of his eyes, and winked.  
  
"And we're doomed," murmured Ron out of the side of his mouth.  
  
Draco stood near the waves with his eyes closed. He could hear the straggled breathing of Hermione, Ron, and Harry from behind him and feel the intense pressure of his spell pressing against his back. A cold wind blew in from the sea, blowing his silvery hair back from his face and sounding a strange whistle across the beach. Draco opened his eyes to the sea, which was no longer moving in its waves. The surface had grown eerily still for as far as he could see into the darkness.  
  
"Draco, step back," Lucius whispered, staring intensely into the darkness. The wind's whistle sounded again, less human and sending supernatural shivers down the back of everyone present.  
  
"Draco! Move back now!" Lucius hissed, motioning for a Death Eater to pull Draco back. The Death Eater went up to Draco and pulled him sharply back from the edge of the beach. Draco moved back with him, legs suddenly feeling very weak. Hermione looked up as he passed her.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered. She only smiled grimly and looked swiftly back up at Lucius, who was starting to frown. The sea, although now weirdly calm, sent out nothing else out of the ordinary. Nothing arose from its depths; no sound of the undead reached the shores, except for the eerie whistle.  
  
The group of Death Eaters shuffled their feet nervously. Hermione dug her fingers into the sand, gathering up a handful near Lucius's feet.  
  
"Where are they?" Lucius hissed, straightening up and striding to the edge of the water. "Something should be happening by now!" A Death Eater walked up and took Lucius's place beside Hermione. Hermione looked over her shoulder at Ron, who was drawing pictures in the sand with a twig.  
  
"Harry, look at my horse," Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
"Not now Ron, I'm trying to think," Harry whispered back. On a second thought, he looked over to where Ron was pointing. "That's a horse?"  
  
"Yeah, it's a horse."  
  
"A very large horse. A very whale-ish horse." Harry muttered, looking back into his hands.  
  
"Well, thanks Harry, for all your creative support," Ron mumbled, scratching out the horse with his finger. He noticed Hermione looking at him from behind his shoulder. Ron sneaked a look up at his Death Eater and then looked back at Hermione.  
  
"How are you holding up?" Ron mouthed.  
  
Hermione shook her head and mouthed, "Tell Harry to get ready to run."  
  
"To run?" Ron mouthed back. Hermione nodded and motioned to Harry.  
  
"And grab your brooms," she whispered, turning back to where Lucius was staring out at the water.  
  
"What the HELL happened to the spell?!" Lucius shouted, striding back to where Draco was being held. He grabbed Draco by the front of the collar and dragged him to the edge of the water. "Shouldn't something be happening?! Isn't that what usually HAPPENS when you perform a spell?!" Lucius yelled, pushing Draco's face towards the ocean.  
  
"Maybe when you perform a spell correctly," Hermione said, just loud enough to Lucius to hear.  
  
Lucius turned around slowly. Draco's heart beat loudly against his chest as he looked over his shoulder at Hermione. She was sitting on her heels, her hands in her lap, looking innocently back at his father. Lucius dropped Draco into the sand and sighed.  
  
"It never fails. Even under WAND POINT, you somehow find a way to get your opinion into the matter." Lucius took a step forward towards Hermione. Draco looked up from the ground, shaking sand from his hair.  
  
"It's not an opinion," Hermione said, softly, pushing her hands father into her lap, hiding the sand that was hidden in her fist.  
  
"Oh really." Lucius pulled off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fingers.  
  
"Harry, get ready to run," Ron mouthed to Harry. Harry nodded silently, bunching up his knees into spring position.  
  
Draco looked at Hermione wretchedly. She was on the precipice of a cliff and she had only to push his father one more time and she would go careening down and not even he could save her. Hermione found his eyes and nodded.  
  
"Don't say anything," she mouthed to Draco. But Lucius, who had been stretching out the leather in his gloves, caught the exchange. He stepped in front of Draco and pushed away the Death Eater's wand on Hermione's back.  
  
"Say what?" Lucius asked smoothly. Draco pulled himself up shakily and stood by his father.  
  
"Nothing Father, we were just-" Lucius cut him off with a sharp behind slap with his glove across the face.  
  
"Shut up, Draco. The girl is capable of answering for herself. Merlin knows, she's done it enough in the past week." Hermione only smiled and clenched the sand harder into her hand. "You were saying?"  
  
"It's not an opinion. It's a fact that you didn't do the spell the right way," Hermione replied in a bored drawl. Lucius gritted his teeth and took another step further.  
  
"Then pray tell us. Tell us ALL why my son didn't do the spell sufficiently enough for you," Lucius said, raising his voice so that the whole congregation could hear him.  
  
Harry and Ron were on their haunches, their Death Eaters too engrossed in the conversation to really pay attention. They glanced at their brooms, which were being guarded by Goyle's father over at the side.  
  
"That'll make it a bit easier," Harry whispered to Ron, who nodded.  
  
"Loudly, so we can all hear!" Lucius continued.  
  
"Necromancy is different than regular magic. In order for dead spirits to rise, they must settle somewhere else. They need a body for them to reside in," Hermione said.  
  
"Why not their old bodies?" Lucius asked, twirling his gloves.  
  
"Sir, we must hurry. The Ministry must have already sensed the magic," Antonin said softly. Lucius nodded, but made no pretense to move.  
  
"Why not their old bodies?" Lucius repeated.  
  
"Their bodies laid for hundreds of years in the ocean. Do you really think that after all this time there would be anything left?" Hermione shook her head pityingly.  
  
Lucius grimaced and strode to where Hermione was sitting, slapping his gloves against his forearm in annoyance. She smiled up at his face, which was growing ever more red with fury.  
  
"WELL then, tell us! Where DID the spirits go?" Lucius asked sharply, trying to contain his manic rage. Hermione shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
"The nearest cemetery, I suppose. They're probably all spread out. They were a HUGE army." Hermione moved slowly onto her heels.  
  
"Get ready," Harry whispered. Draco saw Harry and Ron watching Hermione fixedly and moved from behind his father. Harry found his gaze and motioned with his eyes to the brooms. Draco nodded ever so slightly.  
  
"Are you suggesting that we go tramping all over Ireland looking for each individual warrior?" Lucius asked, voice rising at the incredibility. Hermione only shrugged. Lucius screamed in frustration and threw up his hands. When he looked back at Hermione, she was laughing softly.  
  
"What is so amusing?" Lucius said softly, pointing his wand at her head. Draco's breath was haggard.  
  
"You had better know what you're doing," Draco whispered under his breath.  
  
"You remind me of a spoiled child, that's all." Hermione replied, matter of factly.  
  
Lucius looked at her in shock, his eyes going wide. "I'm going to make you scream, you little-"  
  
Hermione chose that point to finally fling the sand into Lucius's eyes, sending him reeling back in pain, clawing violently at his eyes. Harry and Ron launched themselves up and threw themselves towards their brooms. Goyle's father, who Harry punched flat in the face, fell over backwards with a grunt as all the other Death Eaters frantically grabbed their wands. Hermione rushed over to Lucius, who was writhing in the sand, and grabbed her wand from his pocket, afterwards running towards Harry and Ron, dodging the Death Eaters' hands and ducking under their cloaks.  
  
Draco tried to run towards the brooms, but Antonin caught him and pulled him back. Despite Draco's frantic attempts to free himself, Antonin held him calmly in one arm as he shot out spells with the other.  
  
"Hermione!" Draco yelled, trying vainly to break Antonin's vise like grip. Hermione mounted after Ron, shooting out spells behind her. She was past being expelled at this point. Draco's cry reached her ears as the brooms lifted.  
  
"Draco!" Hermione screamed as she lifted up higher.  
  
"Good God, hold on to something, Hermione!" Ron yelled back at her. Hermione watched as Draco's figure grew smaller and smaller and their brooms lifted higher and higher into the clear night...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: You know what I found out? It's proven that not reviewing fan fictions causes cancer. 


	18. Painful Realization

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.  
  
A/N: I had to get one more chapter in before I went away on vacation. This chapter is LOOOONG and it's sort of boring because I needed to establish a few things before I read the climax. Thanks to all who reviewed!  
  
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"We have to go back!" Hermione screamed at Harry as they raced along the country side, widening the gap between themselves and the battling Death Eaters.  
  
"And do what, Hermione?" Harry yelled back at her. "Lucius is past second chances at this point and even you know that the likely hood of him letting Draco go is slim to none."  
  
"But we can't just leave him there!"  
  
"Could you try yelling somewhere NOT in my ear, Hermione?" Ron muttered.  
  
"We can't do anything for him now, Hermione! He's with family and as angry as Lucius is, Draco is still his son. I doubt he'll do anything to harm him."  
  
"You haven't seen-"  
  
"We have no time!" Harry yelled back at her. Hermione let her head slip onto Ron's shoulder and sighed.  
  
"Well then where are we going?" she asked.  
  
"We're searching," Harry said, his eyes fixed on the ground rushing below him. "The Ministry is on their way and if we can find them it will save a lot of time and explaining. And it wouldn't hurt for you to help."  
  
Hermione looked down at the slowly lightening ground. The sun was slowly coming up over the horizon, sending pink slivers of light across the sky. The green of the hills slowly grew brighter as the sun showed its full face over the hill. Her face, cold from the rushing wind, found warmth again. Hermione looked around Ron's back and saw an approaching town coming up after a hill.  
  
"Are we landing?" she asked. Ron nodded as he and Harry veered to the left and alighted on a hill that was still damp with night frost. Hermione climbed off and stretched her arms.  
  
"Tired?" asked Ron, his smile lined with fatigue. Hermione nodded and sat down, facing back towards the distant beach. "He's fine." Ron said softly, sitting down beside her. Hermione nodded, although she wasn't so sure.  
  
Lucius could be unpredictable and she didn't want to think about what he had planned next.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was back at his house, lying next to Hermione near the warmth of the fire. The smell of her hair mingled with the smell of holly as he kissed the back of her neck. Hermione looked over and smiled.  
  
"Do you trust me?" she asked softly.  
  
"Yes I do," Draco whispered back into her ear. Hermione turned over out of his arms and onto her elbow.  
  
"Then why did you leave me?"  
  
"I'm right here," Draco replied, drawing her back into his arms. Hermione stiffened under his touch and shook her head.  
  
"No, you're not. You're miles away. You're miles away because you didn't trust me." Hermione stood up and walked to the window. Draco stood up and tried to follow, but he took one step and found he couldn't move another inch. Dried holly rustled under his feet. He looked up and saw Hermione standing by the open window. Outside he could see the sea breaking.  
  
"You're miles away because you didn't trust me," Hermione whispered, suddenly standing on the edge of the window sill.  
  
"I'm right here!" Draco called out to her desperately. Hermione shook her head and took a step out of the window towards the roaring sea. "NO!" Draco screamed, his feet suddenly becoming free as he threw himself towards the window. "HERMIONE!" But she fell, slipping through his fingers like sand...  
  
Like sand....  
  
Draco jerked awake, his fingers clutching sand that slowly fell through the cracks between his fingers. It had grown light as he slept, as the Death Eaters planned around the fire. The fire had dwindled down into smoke that disappeared into the sky. Antonin pulled Draco up and brushed his sweater free of sand.  
  
"We're off in a few minutes." Antonin said, leading Draco to a small group of Death Eaters. "We've been put into search groups to cover more ground." Draco nodded. His father was deep in conversation with another Death Eater, who had given chase to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
  
"We know the general direction they went and we can easily follow it, but my concern is that they'll meet the Ministry and alert them," the Death Eater was saying. Lucius nodded and noticed his son listening to the exchange with interest. The Death Eater stepped back to continue the conversation to the appointed Death Eater in charge of the search for the trio.  
  
"Have you decided to join the search or just be dragged along? Naturally you don't want to be a burden, but I'm afraid we can't leave you anywhere and although you've proved yourself to be a hopeless coward last night, I would rather not listen to your teenage angst as we search," Lucius finished, standing back and waiting for Draco's answer.  
  
Draco might have lacked courage last night, but he wasn't about to help his father to kill the one person he loved, the one person who loved him...  
  
"No Father," Draco replied, crossing his arms and regarding his father with sympathy. "Your lust for power has gone out of the control and I don't intend to play a part in a hostile takeover."  
  
Lucius sighed and pulled on his gloves. "I thought as much. You really are hopeless, you know that? You're letting your feelings blind you from your ultimate purpose."  
  
"At least I feel," Draco replied softly. Lucius smiled and signaled for his broom.  
  
"Do you want to ride with me or do you prefer to be shackled to something heavy?" Lucius asked, the pleasure in his voice not impossible to detect. Draco only smiled and climbed behind his father. "Hmmm, glad you're not ruling out every possibility," Lucius muttered from the front.  
  
"No, it's just that now I have my hands free to push you off if I wish," Draco said as the broom lifted off the ground. Lucius chuckled as the broom rose higher into the hair and joined the group in the sky.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Ready to go on?" Harry asked, pulling his riding gloves back on.  
  
Hermione, pulled out of a delightful day dream, pulled herself up and mounted on the broom behind Ron.  
  
"Where are we going now?" she asked.  
  
"We're still on the lookout for the Ministry, but if we see a dead person walking around anywhere, we should take note of that too."  
  
"Take note?" Ron said. "You mean all we're going to do is look at it and say, 'Oh look, another dead person.' Shouldn't we do something about it?"  
  
"Feel like battling a zombie warrior anytime soon, Ron?" Harry asked, pushing off from the ground.  
  
"I'm not saying we should battle it, but couldn't we...cut off his legs or something?" Harry and Hermione looked at him in amused confusion. "You know! So he can't move any further!"  
  
"See, this is why we keep you around, Ron," Hermione said.  
  
"Shut up," muttered Ron.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was planning. He refused to help his father, but if they did come across Hermione, he would have to do SOMETHING. He couldn't just sit there and hope his father had mercy. No, he would have to do something. But he couldn't think of what. He no longer had his wand and even if he did he couldn't hope to use it against his father.  
  
He was glad of his cloak by now, because although it was a sunny morning, it was still December and the hood shielded his face against the oncoming wind. Draco adjusted the cloak around his legs and felt the pipes that were still lying in his pocket. His father still didn't know he had them. Fortunately, they hadn't turned cold recently or his father would have noticed in their close proximity. How could these pipes even hope to save him? He didn't even now how to use them and his father would notice before he had a chance to find out.  
  
"There has to be some other way," Draco thought as he soared with his father hundreds of feet above the ground.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You know I just thought of something," Hermione said.  
  
"What?" Ron asked curiously.  
  
"If we wanted to alert the Ministry, shouldn't we have just stayed on the beach? The Ministry will apparate there anyway to investigate."  
  
Ron stayed silent for a while.  
  
"HARRY!" he yelled, spurring up until he and Harry were neck to neck.  
  
"Yes, Ron?" Harry asked, slowing down a bit. "Do you see something?"  
  
"Hermione...?" Ron started, turning his broom around so Hermione was facing Harry. Harry stopped and hovered, eyes searching the ground.  
  
"Wouldn't it have been better to stay on the beach and wait for the Ministry? They need to investigate there anyway, don't they?" Hermione said tentatively.  
  
Harry looked up in surprise. They hovered there for a few seconds, letting the wind blow their brooms about a bit.  
  
"Shit..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The morning was cold and Draco's eyes watered as he gazed intently on the ground rushing below him. If he could get his father down on the ground long enough, he might be able to get away and find Hermione. All he had to do was to find an excuse for a landing. If he could maybe see a dead walker before Lucius.  
  
"Lucius!"  
  
"Speak of the devil," Draco thought, as he saw a man flying towards them. "I thought Travers died.."  
  
Travers sped up on his broom towards his father and Draco, who paused his thoughts to focus on the man's frantic message.  
  
"We just received word that the Ministry came and left. They're reported to have started looking for the dead."  
  
"As are we," mummered Lucius. "And have they found any?"  
  
"No, we've found them all." The man replied, keeping speed with Lucius's broom.  
  
"Them ALL?" Lucius asked disbelievingly.  
  
"Yes. It seems the girl lied. They are all massed together and moving as one."  
  
Draco tried to envision the sight, but found he couldn't without frightening himself. The pipes, which had grown painfully cold, throbbed even more painfully against his leg.  
  
"Moving as one? Where are they headed?" Lucius asked.  
  
"They seem to be moving towards the strongest gathering of life in Ireland," the man replied tentatively.  
  
Lucius slowed his broom down to a slow crawl and stared at the man in furious exasperation.  
  
"I'm so sorry that I'm not as familiar with the terrain as you, my dear Travers. Would you be so kind as to tell us where my army is headed?" Lucius said in short bursts between his teeth. Draco could feel his father's heart racing through his back.  
  
"I meant no disrespect. They're heading towards Dublin and they're in plain daylight. We need to catch them before they cause an accident." Travers explained, backing his broom away from Lucuis a little just in case.  
  
"But that, my dear Travers, is what we want," Lucius responded, a smile curving up his lips. Draco shivered, readjusting his pant leg so the pipe wasn't against his leg.  
  
An army of the dead marching on Ireland's biggest city, moving slow and intently across the live green hills towards Ireland's biggest populace. "Most people are probably still having their morning coffee." he thought.  
  
"We need to find them," Draco whispered to himself.  
  
"Indeed we do, son." Lucius said back, his broom picking up speed, heading towards the marching death walkers headed towards Dublin.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I have an idea," Ron said, breaking the enormous silence that had fallen over the trio. Hermione was just thinking whether it would just be best to go back and wait on the beach, but found her thoughts broken by Ron's first input of ideas. Ron was rubbing his face, thinking it over more fully. He raised his head in decision and cleared his throat.  
  
"We can't go looking all over Ireland for dead people. What would we do if we found one, anyway?" He looked at Harry, who stayed silent. "Yeah. That's what I thought. But if we could find someone or something that could maybe give us a hint, we could deal with this more rationally."  
  
Harry and Hermione waited for more, but apparently Ron was done.  
  
"Where do you suggest we go, Ron?" Harry asked. "Who do we know who has knowledge of necromancy?" Ron shrugged. "Well then we're back where we started."  
  
"How about the local library?" Hermione said thoughtfully. Harry and Ron turned slowly and disbelievingly at Hermione, who shrunk back a bit on her seat. "Ok, it was just a suggestion."  
  
"No, no," Harry said, still looking at Hermione, but this time thoughtfully. "You're right."  
  
"Harry, a LIBRARY? Even our library doesn't go into detail on Necromancy!" Ron said, laughing incredulously.  
  
"We don't even know the basics, Ron. We need all we can get," Harry replied, rising higher in the air, looking around him for a town. "Didn't we land near a town earlier?"  
  
"Dublin," Hermione replied. "We can still see it from here. They're likely to have a few libraries." Harry nodded and sped off towards the distant town and beyond that, the country that lay sprawled out like a giant patchwork quilt across the hills. Ron followed, this time closer to the ground.  
  
"Hermione, do you still have that invisibility cloak?" Harry yelled back at her, slowly down to avoid being seen by a passing car.  
  
"No! I left it at Draco's," Hermione yelled back over Ron's head.  
  
"Then we'll just have to walk in, then." Harry said.  
  
"Or break in," Ron added  
  
"Just be sure not to crash into any windows this time, Ron," Harry said, smiling at the approaching town and slowing down to land.  
  
"Thanks for that Harry. I'll remember that." Ron landed next to Harry and sent him a look that said, "I'm going to kill you when this is all over." Harry laughed and Hermione couldn't help by join in. By the time they had reached streets, they had broken the morning silence with their joyful laughter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Mom, some kids with brooms are walking down the street laughing." A boy peeked out of his curtains while eating breakfast.  
  
"They have brooms?" his mother asked, coming up behind him to peer out the window.  
  
"Yes, and they're laughing."  
  
The mom sighed and moved to the sink to pull on her washing gloves. "Brooms. What will kids find 'hip' next?"  
  
"I want a broom!"  
  
"Eat your breakfast."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They stood staring up at a massive building out of the way of the shops and situated near the Dublin's city border. It looked fairly new, gray concrete and flower boxed windows around the walls. A sign was glass plated and stuck above the door:  
  
DUBLIN LIBRARY  
Open Monday-Saturday, 10-7  
All books to be returned on Sundays at the box  
  
***************  
  
"Well, where's the back way?" Harry asked, walking around to the back.  
  
"It looks fairly new, Harry. It'll probably have a security alarm or something." Hermione said, she and Ron following Harry to the back where it opened up into the patchwork fields.  
  
"Like a hex?" Ron asked, moving behind Hermione as Harry searched for a door.  
  
"No, like electric." Hermione replied. When met with a blank stare, she only shook her head. "Never mind."  
  
"Found it!" They followed Harry's voice further down the wall behind some bushes and watched as he cleared away a bush to reveal a cellar door. "It's probably a storage room."  
  
"Is it open?" Ron came up and pulled on the handle. "Evidently not."  
  
Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed at the lock. Harry and Ron both had to stop themselves from warning her against magic, until they remembered she had already done enough to get her expelled.  
  
"Alohomora."  
  
They all heard a click and Ron pulled open the door into a dusty dark hole. "Thanks Hermione." She nodded.  
  
They descended into the gloom, sidestepping boxes of books air packed to prevent dampness and decay. They found some stairs in little time and with Harry in front, Hermione in the middle, and Ron ending the line, they climbed up and opened the unlocked door into the library.  
  
They walked into a back room, leaving the cellar door open. They opened the far door and peeked out into the shelves of books. The building was silent, all three floors of it. The sound made from their shoes on the white tile floor echoed off the walls and off the volumes surrounding them.  
  
"Where could it be?" Ron asked, his voice sounding strangely loud. Harry pointed towards a file drawer and they headed towards it.  
  
"If you would be so kind, Hermione." Harry murmured.  
  
"Alohomora," Hermione said blandly, and Harry opened up the drawer marked "N." He riffled through the cards, brow furrowed in intensity. "Well," he said, closing the door, "it's not here."  
  
"Maybe we can check Black Magic," Ron suggested as Hermione got the "B" drawer unlocked. Harry looked, pulled out a few cards, and headed off to their corresponding shelves. The first was a dud, a stupid fiction book about a witch.  
  
"This is so inaccurate," Hermione said, looking over the book in disgust. They moved on towards the second card, which listed only necromancy as a tool used in séances. Seemingly hopeless, their search led them to a shelf near the back of the library where the magazines and comic books are kept.  
  
"Are you sure this book will be legitimate?" Ron asked, eyeing a Superman comic suspiciously. But the book Harry pulled out was leather bound and worn at the edges. Hermione and Ron watched as Harry leafed through the pages.  
  
"Here we are: Necromancy. Ok...nothing we don't know..ok...you were right, they do need their souls in bodies...let's see.." Harry paused, and read over a sentence a second time. He breathed in shakily and read it over a third time.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked, trying vainly to see over his shoulder.  
  
"This is weird, but it says that the raised souls will head towards the largest gathering of the living they can sense." Harry paused and looked at them. "It doesn't make sense."  
  
"Where does it say-oh..I see," Ron said, grabbing the book from Harry's hands and finding the sentence. "Where would they go? China?"  
  
"Dublin." They turned towards Hermione who was staring at them in horror. "Dublin is the biggest city in Ireland, especially when people come in to go to work."  
  
"Are you saying there's an army of DEAD PEOPLE marching towards Dublin?" Ron cried.  
  
"Towards us," Hermione added, nodding. They stayed frozen in shock for about three seconds, until suddenly they all broke into a frantic run for the cellar door, dropping the book and the cards on the clean tile floor. They raced into the darkness of the cellar and fumbled to open the door, already climbing onto their brooms. Harry opened the door and they all tumbled out into the morning sunlight.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Uh oh! I used the "s" word! I am SUCH a rebel! MWA HA! 


	19. Dead Walkers

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Huzzah..  
  
A/N: READ THIS NOTE! I have added a bunch of stuff to the last chapter at the end, so if you start this chapter it won't make ANY sense! I decided that the last chapter was going to be the boring one that gets you ready for the action in this one. So...READ THE LAST FEW PAGES ON THE LAST CHAPTER BEFORE YOU READ THIS ONE!......man, caps are scary.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As they tumbled out of the library, a loud whooshing noise sounded in their ears. They looked up, blinking in the sunlight, to see Death Eaters falling from the sky, landing in the open field behind the library.  
  
"How did they find us?" Ron asked breathlessly.  
  
"They don't find us. We're both looking for the same thing." Harry answered, standing up.  
  
As more black cloaked flyers came and landed, the trio grabbed their brooms and sprinted across the open field, crouching low in the tall grass. The library was soon lost from sight as they ran as quickly and quietly as they could past the descending Death Eaters. When they were behind them a bit, Harry mounted his broom and kicked off into the sky.  
  
He crashed back into the ground as a crocodile skinned boot made a collision with his face. As Harry sat up, his nose bleeding, Lucius and Draco landed a few feet in front of them. Hermione and Ron backed slowly away, pulling Harry up from the ground. They turned back towards the library, only to find with dismay their way barred by advancing Death Eaters. They turned back to face Lucius, who was wiping off his boot with the end of Draco's cloak.  
  
Draco, wanting so much to run to Hermione, felt his stomach tighten as the Death Eaters closed in around Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They once again tried to fly, but Death Eaters met them from above, forcing them back down away from the open sky. Draco could see every bit of hope fall from Hermione's face as Ron and Harry circled her, protecting her from the ever closing circle of Death Eaters.  
  
Lucius smoothly stepped into the circle, Draco trailing behind him. The circle widened a bit as Harry, Ron, and Hermione backed to the opposite side of the circle away from the Malfoys. Hermione felt like she was suffocating as silence fell over them like a wet blanket.  
  
"What strikes me as amusing is how hard you fought to get away the first time, only to be caught hours later outside a library. A smart person would have tried to contact the Ministry but I guess that option was lost on your simple minds." Lucius said, standing square in front of the three. He was neither smiling nor frowning, only gazing at them with a blank stare one would give a particularly interesting rock found on the road.  
  
None of the three spoke. They only stared back in equal defiance, eyes glancing around the circle and the sky for the first window of escape.  
  
"Well, either way, you're in for quite a show." Lucius started to slowly walk the inside borders of the circle, causing Harry, Ron, and Hermione to move backwards away from him around the circle, until the four of them resembled something of a pinwheel. Draco stood still, holding his father's broom. As Hermione passed him backing up, he brushed her hand softly, silently sending her courage. She gave him a fleeting look, but one that still revealed her feelings.  
  
The brush of Draco's hand, soft and cold, made Hermione want to jump towards him and carry him upwards.but the ever advancing figure carried her past him.  
  
"We've solved our little problem. We don't have to go searching for my army because, as it turns out, they're coming to us."  
  
"We know," Harry said, finally speaking as he backed up around the circle. "Why do you think we were at the library?"  
  
"Looking for Cook books?" Ron added, taking Hermione's hand for protection and comfort. Lucius put his head down and chuckled for a few feet.  
  
"Well then, I'm sure you'll want to stay around and watch." Lucius said coyly, grabbing his broom from Draco as he passed. Draco let it go, the feeling of Hermione's skin still tingling at his finger tips.  
  
"Kind of hard when you're walking us in a circle," Harry spat back, finally stopping his backwards march. Hermione and Ron stopped too, but Lucius kept advancing until he was a broom's length away from them.  
  
"Then let's get started," Lucius said softly, signaling for the circle to part into a line. Harry, Ron, and Hermione started to run towards the open space, but Lucius cut them off, grabbing Hermione by the shoulders.  
  
"Now, you wouldn't be so rude as to leave just when you've accepted out invitation, would you?" Lucius said as two Death Eaters grabbed Ron and Harry. He pulled Hermione towards him and spoke close into her ear, "You're going to love this."  
  
He turned her around to face the field as the line moved beside them, a solid barricade of black cloaked villains. Harry and Ron stood with their Death Eaters, fearfully watching the horizon.  
  
Draco stood with the line, watching his father hold Hermione strongly from behind, turning her face towards the approaching army of dead Celtic warriors. They stood for what seemed like hours, Lucius's vise like grip digging into Hermione's arms painfully; sweat dripped down and out of Draco's heavy black cloak.  
  
A rustling in the grass made all present look towards the noise. Nothing could be seen, but the wind whistled eerily through the trees, and a stray dog started barking. The sun shimmered on the grass and all started when the rustling was heard again. All was quiet in the field when the first warrior walked silently into sight.  
  
Everybody froze as the body walked smoothly and serenely towards them, the only mark of his death the flesh hanging off his body like tattered clothes, revealing ebony white bone. One side of his face was just as that, the straight line of his mouth marred by the white grin of his skull. As he walked silently through the grass, more appeared behind him, of all different genders and creeds.  
  
Everyone's blood turned to ice as tens turned to twenties until there were more than a hundred Dead Walkers coming towards them, all as calmly as the days they lived. The pipes suddenly exploded into pure ice, burning Draco's leg as he dropped to the ground with a strangled yell. He dragged himself behind the line until he couldn't see the dead army anymore and the pipes calmed down.  
  
"Get up, Draco," Lucius said, not even him able to contain the quiver in his voice. "You called them forth, you must control them." The mass of warriors massed towards them, the first only a hundred feet from the first Death Eater. "GET UP!" Lucius cried violently. "Before they reach us!"  
  
Draco dragged himself up, clutching his leg in agony, and walked towards the line again. On a sudden thought, he pulled the pipes out of his pocket. If he was the going to be an army commander of the dead, he certainly couldn't use the pipes. He went quietly to Hermione from behind and pressed them into Hermione's hands, sensing it the right thing to be doing. She grabbed them instinctively, the metal warming up as they touched her palms. His father noticed him behind them.  
  
"Now boy! Do you want to torn to pieces?!"  
  
Draco pushed through the line and pulled out his wand. The dead, sensing their bringer near, slowed to a stop. They stood still as if they were made of stone, their horrid appearance made even more noticeable as the wind whipped their fragile bones and torn flesh in the breeze. Some were missing limbs; some had no arms at all. There they all stood before Draco, awaiting his words.  
  
Hermione felt the metal in her hands, touching the rods of metal strung together. She felt frost around the edges of the rods, as if the thing has been put in an ice box. She could only wonder what they were and what Draco expected her to do with them.  
  
"Have you ever considered that they only speak Gaelic?" Hermione asked softly, her eyes frozen in terror on the dead walkers. Lucius put his mouth by her ear.  
  
"They'll follow the orders of their bringer, don't worry about that. All communication is sent through magic." He watched his son as closely as Hermione did.  
  
"Are you saying the army will feel the commands rather than hear them?" Hermione asked, her fingers running over and over the pipes.  
  
"Yes indeed. For example, if Draco ordered them to kill you, they FEEL the command and tear you apart." He straightened up, a frown creasing his face. "That reminds me."  
  
He walked forwards, dragging Hermione in front of him, towards Draco. As they walked forward, Harry and Ron could see the pipes held in Hermione's hands.  
  
"What is she holding?" Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
"I don't know," Harry answered back, ever conscious of the Death Eater behind him, "But I hope it's something useful." Ron nodded, eyes glued on a particular Dead Walker to his right.  
  
"Harry." Ron whispered shakily, "that one over there is staring at me."  
  
"Half of them don't have eyes, Ron," Harry answered, following Ron's eyes to his particular dead walker.  
  
"This one does," Ron said, watching the glinting eyes of his Dead Walker, "and they're telling me that he wants to eat me."  
  
"No he doesn't!" Harry whispered fiercely back. "But they do have an intelligence I don't think Lucius counted on. That may come in good for later." By this time, Lucius has reached Draco with Hermione in tow.  
  
"Give them an order, Draco," Lucius said, making sure Hermione stood between him and the Dead Walkers. He too could feel the intelligence of the army, as well as the violence they could unleash if told to.  
  
"Like what?" Draco asked, looking quickly at Hermione to see if she still had the pipes. As his father was about to speak, a dozen of Ministry workers apparated behind the line of Death Eaters. Shouts could be heard as they pulled out their wands to face the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters moved aside, revealing the hoard of the dead and, front and foremost, Lucius, Draco, and Hermione.  
  
"Just in time," Lucius said as Cornelius Fudge ran forward, flanked by his workers with wands at ready. "Cornelius! I wasn't aware you came along on such investigations!"  
  
"Lucius!" Cornelius said in surprise as he approaching. Then he saw the Dead Walkers. "Oh my God! Wha-,"Cornelius stammered, frozen in his place as the glittering eyes of the dead went momentarily to the new comer. The Death Eaters moved silently back into line, blocking the way out behind the Ministry workers. Cornelius found his voice, but only in a whisper, "Who.WHAT are these people?"  
  
Lucius put on a look of confusion, looking around him. When he saw the army of Donn, he looked back at Cornelius in surprise. "OH! Them! My son has been living up to his name this Christmas."  
  
"But these-," Cornelius stammered, "I mean, we sensed necromancy, but we never..." He rubbed his eyes, seeming to rub the image from his mind, but found that they were still there when he looked back. "You raised an ARMY!"  
  
"Exactly so, Minister," Lucius said, tightening his grip on Hermione. Hermione winced, clutching the pipes harder in her hands. Draco stood behind his father, watching the scene play out as if in a movie. "An army. The army of Donn, more specifically."  
  
"But.why Lucius?" Cornelius asked, trying not to look at the marred faces before him.  
  
"They can never die, Cornelius, because they're already dead. There is no need for training, for they have already been trained. The Celts are known as merciless warriors, one of the most bloodthirsty in all of history. This army is of special value."  
  
For the first time, Cornelius noticed the children. He noticed that Hermione was being held by Lucius tightly, that Draco was standing behind them with his wand pulled out. He turned around and found the line had reformed and that Ron and the famous Harry Potter were being held captive by two smug looking Death Eaters. He turned back to Lucius and remembered that Lucius was in house arrest. He remembered all the important circumstances of the situation he has failed to notice.  
  
Cornelius fumbled for his wand as Lucius smiled at him. The wind whipped around them all, sending the Ministry workers back with the smell of the dead. Hermione gagged and sagged down, only to be pulled back up by Lucius. Cornelius regained his composure and held out his wand.  
  
"I want you to let the girl go, Lucius. I want you to send whoever these people are back where they came from and come with us."  
  
Lucius laughed and shook his head.  
  
"I have a question, Cornelius. Where's the Headmaster? Why didn't Albus attend this gathering?" Lucius asked.  
  
"Necromancy is a serious charge, Lucius. You broke house arrest, captured children including Harry Potter, and congregated here with an army of Death Eaters and dead people."  
  
"Dead Walkers," Lucius corrected.  
  
"The name for those....THINGS does not matter," Cornelius spat out. "You will come with us now!"  
  
"Look around, Minister!" Lucius said, raising his voice so all could hear. "We outnumber you ten to one. I hold children you would not want harmed. I don't think you hold the power anymore."  
  
"I am the MINSITER!"  
  
"Minster?" Lucius cried, laughing. "I couldn't care less if you were the POPE! We have you at our mercy." Lucius held Hermione out towards the Dead Walkers at arms length. "If I wanted I could throw her to the wolves. This army would tear her to pieces!" Hermione cringed. She could practically feel the breath of the dead blowing on her face, stinking of decay and destruction. Cornelius turned around to find that his workers had been detained and were being held at wand point by Lucius's Death Eaters. He turned back around to face Lucius, fear draining his face white.  
  
Draco found his feet and walked quietly to the back on his father...  
  
"What do you think will happen when you die, Minster? The Ministry will fall apart! I had hoped Dumbledore would attend, but your death will bring him. Both of your deaths will pave the way to Voldermort's return."  
  
Draco found himself reaching up slowly towards his father..  
  
"The world will turn to ash and we will finally reign. This dirty world of Mudbloods will reform into an empire of purebloods." Lucius pulled Hermione towards him tightly. "Starting..with her."  
  
With a cry, he shoved Hermione into the Dead Walkers. Draco screamed and sent his mind towards the army as Hermione disappeared into a mass of torn arms and hands with a shriek.  
  
"HERMIONE!" Harry screamed, fighting violently to escape. Ron was kicking and screaming, frantic to get to Hermione before she was killed.  
  
"Let her go!" Draco frantically thought, his wand radiating a strong light towards his army. "Please, let her go!"  
  
Lucius watched as his son sent his first command, waiting in glee for Hermione to start screaming in death. But Hermione slowly emerged, carried gently above the heads of the Dead Walkers, hands holding her up that fell apart as they touched. She lightly touched the ground and collapsed, scarcely breathing for fright.  
  
Draco ran over and dragged her up, feeling her pulse frantically. He felt it, beating weakly. Lucius was shocked, half because his son commanded the army, and the other half because he had used his power to save the Mudblood. Draco dragged Hermione away from his father towards the Death Eaters until Lucius stood alone in front of the army.  
  
"Draco.come here," Lucius ordered softly. Draco was sitting by Cornelius rubbing Hermione's hands to get heat circulated. He didn't hear his father's command. "Draco, come over here now."  
  
Hermione's eyes opened with a gasp, her hands clutching madly at Draco. Draco held her close, rocking backwards and forwards to calm her. Her breathing slowed to a normal pace. The pipes had fallen to the ground beside her, the sunlight sparkling off the frost. Lucius's eyes narrowed as he saw them resting beside her.  
  
"Those pipes." he started. His frown vanished as he stalked towards Hermione to pick them up. Cornelius scuttled back in fright and was grabbed by a Death Eater. As Lucius bent down to grab the pipes, Draco's foot came down on them, sending Lucius reeling back for fear of his fingers. Draco picked them up, pulling himself off the ground with Hermione.  
  
"Those pipes are mine, Draco," Lucius said sharply. "You don't know what they are,"  
  
"I do," Draco replied, pressing them into Hermione's hands. "They're the pipes of Ionracas,"  
  
Lucius's eyes narrowed and he held out his hand towards Draco. "Give those to me."  
  
"You can't use them," Draco said, letting go of Hermione to face his father head on. "They can't be used for evil, only for good."  
  
Hermione looked for the first time at the pipes in her hand. They grew warm, radiating through her fingers up to her face and down towards her feet. A tremor suddenly surged through her, making her gasp. Harry and Ron watched in amazement as her skin glowed first gold, then white. Lucius and Draco turned around from their argument as the air around them turned dark. The night shone heavy on the company as they turned towards Hermione, who was staring in wonder at the pipes. Draco walked back until he was beside Hermione. He touched her skin hesitantly, drawing his hand back quickly as he burned his fingertips.  
  
Lucius started towards her, but was brought back when the light shone so bright he had to move back for fear of being blinded. The army stood still giving the sudden night as much notice as they did the day. Hermione shone so bright no stars could be seen in the sky; the sky which lay above them as a black mantle. Hermione raised the pipes towards her mouth and she shone so brightly every Death Eater let their hands go to their eyes.  
  
"Cover your ears!" Draco cried suddenly, going down to his knees and covering his head. Harry and Ron, free from their Death Eaters, went down to the ground, covering their ears. Cornelius did the same, all the Ministry workers going to the ground. The Death Eaters stood in awe, seeing their dreams and wonder in the light. Lucius stood with his mouth open as Hermione felt her lips move to the smallest pipe, the highest sound. As the light grew brightest, she blew into the pipes.  
  
A sound, not at all brutal, spread through out the field, passing the army of Donn harmlessly. The Death Eaters, still lost in the light of their visions, fell to their knees, never noticing that they seemed to melt into the ground. Draco tried to look towards his father, but found he couldn't make him out in the light. As the pipes grew to their highest pitch, another tremor went through Hermione into the ground, traveling across the field and ripping up grass and rocks. The pipes left Hermione's lips as the sound grew quieter and the light grew dimmer. The last of the light left the field, leaving darkness all the darker from Hermione's glow. For a few seconds everyone stayed still on the ground clamping their hands over their ears. Draco was the first to stand up, looking around into the darkness. As his eyes accustomed to the dark, he saw Hermone standing beside him. He stood shakily up and looked around. Harry, Ron, and the Ministry workers were surrounded by black cloaks, abandoned empty on the torn up ground.  
  
He looked towards the army, standing in the dark as if it were still the day. He could see his father's cloak laying in a clump on the ground, the crocodile skin boots lying a few feet off as if Lucius had lain down before he disappeared into the ground. Draco searched his chest, stomach, head, and heart and felt...nothing.  
  
Harry and Ron looked up from their "duck and cover" and stood up. They rushed over to Hermione and grabbed her into a fierce hug; a "glad to be alive" hug. The Ministry workers stood up, brushing off their cloaks. They pulled Cornelius up from the ground. He had to have two men support him in walking.  
  
Draco walked slowly towards the army, feeling their eyes regarding him searchingly.  
  
"Go home," Draco thought. "Be at peace."  
  
A great sigh, louder than even the pipes, resounded over the field and as the field grew lighter, the army disappeared into the air, disintegrating like sand in the wind. The sun shone once again over the company.  
  
Draco went tiredly over to Hermione and took her into his arms. She sagged against him and held him tight, breathing into his neck. Ron and Harry moved to pick up their brooms from beneath the fallen Death Eater's cloaks.  
  
"We need to get out of here," Harry said quietly.  
  
"Yeah," Ron said, looking at Cornelius talking to his Ministry workers. "We have a lot of explaining to do."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: I love how this was all just one long scene... 


	20. Deireadh

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but the plot is mine.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nothing could compare to the relief that swept over the company as they met Dumbledore and Lupin in the air. Dumbledore said nothing about what happened. He ignored for the moment the sea of black cloaks and the crocodile boots, forgotten by the children in the tall grass. He just picked up the children and spirited them back to Hogwarts, over the green sea and the foamy waves. It would have been a spectacular sight, if any of them were sentient enough to care.  
  
It was nearly dark then they alighted on the sweeping lawns of Hogwarts, deserted still with half of vacation left. Never had the windows looked to welcoming, spilling over with warm light and the promise of much needed rest. They entered the Main Hall, eyes blurring with fatigue. It wasn't even that late, but eveyone was tired from the strain of the day, especially Hermione. She had actually fallen asleep on the ride home, head resting heavily on Lupin's back.  
  
"There will be plenty of time later for explanation," Dumbledore said softly, eyeing the straggled company through his glasses. "Everyone is in much want of a good night's sleep,"  
  
"I think it'll take a little more than that," Lupin said, peering through his floppy bangs.  
  
"Naturally," Dumbledore replied. "Now, all of you off to your beds. Your rest will be interrupted by nothing. But all of you will be expected to talk..sometime," Dumbledore added.  
  
Draco started off down the stone steps to the dungeon, only half aware of Hermione walking up with Harry and Ron to their dormitory. It only occurred to him as he was falling into bed that he was back and everything would have to return to normal. But before he could contemplate what that meant, his head hit the pillow and sleep took over.  
  
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****  
  
CULT GATHERING SUSPECTED NEAR DUBLIN LIBRARY  
*The strange eclipse that occurred yesterday at 8:23 am is now the topic of a heated debate within Dublin's city council and around kitchen tables all over Ireland. There was no premonition of this eclipse, which some people are now writing off as "magic."  
Although there is no proof that any supernatural occurrence happened, when the librarian opened up for the day, he found that the cellar had been broken into, and one of the library's oldest books abandoned on the floor. Some sources say that the book dealt with black magic, and a question arises to why the library would hold such a book? The librarian withholds comment, leaving that question unanswered. However the librarian, when stepping outside for a cigarette later that day, found almost two dozen black cloaks abandoned in the field behind the building. More bizarre, he found a pair of crocodile skin boots among the cloaks. The cloaks, suspected from a cult gathering, were collected by law enforcement for inspection. The boots, however, are being kept by the librarian. "Well, they ARE good boots!" he exclaimed. So, although the public will come away with unanswered questions and only a hypothesis of what really happened that morning, someone did come away with a great pair of boots.  
~ G. Menary*  
  
**********  
  
Hermione looked up from her newspaper and down the long empty table. She was the first person to arrive for breakfast. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before. She had laid in the wonderful familiarity of her bed and listened to the silence until she could see the sun rise and get up for breakfast. When she did, she found her Daily Prophet and Muggle newspaper waiting for her. The Daily Prophet had written nothing of the past night's events, probably silenced by the Ministry by means of threat. However, Cornelius could not stop the Muggle writers from publishing their own story.  
  
She was just about to rise from her seat when Harry appeared, looking small under the massive archway. He made his way to the table and sat down next to her. She pushed the newspaper towards him and he read, amusement lining his face just from the title.  
  
"It's not very funny," Hermione said.  
  
"No, I guess it's not," Harry replied, setting the newspaper down with a sigh, "But we should be glad they didn't think up something worse."  
  
"Just wait until they discover the empty graves around Ireland," Hermione added, rolling up the newspaper nervously.  
  
"Can't wait for that." Harry put his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Are you feeling ok?"  
  
"As well as can be expected," she said, rising. "Did you want breakfast?"  
  
"Not now," Harry said, rising with her. "I left Ron snoring like a freight train, so it'll be a while until he gets up. I can wait until then." As they walked slowly out of the Dining Hall, Harry kept stealing worried glances at Hermione, who stopped by the stairs and faced him.  
  
"What's the matter Harry?"  
  
Harry took a moment, seeming to count the fingers on his hand. He looked up finally. "How did it feel? I mean-playing the pipes?"  
  
Hermione sat down on the steps and Harry remained standing, watching her eyes glaze over in thought. She took a while and Harry waited patiently, almost wishing he hadn't asked at all.  
  
"I felt-," she stopped and took a small breath. "I felt very warm. For those moments I felt like I wasn't in control, like I couldn't stop playing if I tried. I couldn't feel my body or the ground underneath my feet. But it wasn't a bad feeling. I just felt...light," Hermione finished. She sat in thought for a few more moments and then looked up at Harry.  
  
"It sounds nice," Harry said softly.  
  
"It was," Hermione whispered. She stood up and pulled back her hair. "Do you know if Draco is up yet?" Harry only shrugged. Hermione let her hair go and sat back down.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco woke up and it took him a few moments to figure out that he was back at Hogwarts. He sat up and looked at the clock.  
  
12:00  
  
Draco groaned and fell back on his bed, rubbing his temples. Even with over twelve hours he felt as if he could sleep another decade. Plus, he hated the thought of sitting down and living it all over again for Dumbledore. Still, he slid out of bed and, as slowly as he could, got dressed.  
  
"I wonder if Hermione's up." Draco thought, quickening his pace through the dungeon. He climbed the stairs and walked out into the Great Hall.  
  
Hermione looked up from the stairs, where she had been sitting for the past few hours with Harry, and smiled so wide that Harry thought her face would split. She leaped up and met Draco halfway, pulling him into a fierce hug. Draco buried his face in her hair.  
  
"Now this is what I call a morning greeting," he whispered, and Hermione laughed. It was a pure laugh, something neither Harry nor Draco had heard in what seemed like years.  
  
Draco and Hermione walked back towards Harry, who stood awkwardly by the banister. Draco and Harry stood for a few moments before Draco extended his hand towards Harry. Harry only took a moment to accept it, making Hermione smile and laugh once again.  
  
"How can it be this easy?" Harry exclaimed, taking back his hand.  
  
"Oh, it won't be," Draco replied. "There will obviously be disagreements and I doubt it will take Ron any less than a year to even say my NAME, but you'll have to manage."  
  
Harry nodded seriously.  
  
"Why didn't anyone wake me up?" a voice said from the top of the stairs. They looked up to see Ron standing with his hands on his hips, a grumpy expression on his face, and an ugly purple sweater on his torso.  
  
"Nice sweater, Weasley," Draco sniggered. Hermione hit him lightly as Ron made his way down the stairs.  
  
"You know," Ron said when he reached the bottom, "This sweater isn't nearly as ugly as your face."  
  
"At least I don't have enough freckles to be mistaken for chicken pox," Draco countered.  
  
"You've been awake less than ten minutes and already you're picking a fight!" Hermione exclaimed, getting between the two. "Could you guys keep it together for once?" She turned to Ron. "Are you hungry?"  
  
"I've kinda lost my appetite," Ron hissed, eyeing Draco.  
  
"Well then why don't we sit down and chat?" Dumbledore said, walking serenely up to them from wherever he was evidently hiding. "That is, if you're ready?"  
  
The group looked at each other nervously, Ron's usually crimson face draining a bit in color. But they all kept their stomachs and nodded. Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling from behind his half-moon spectacles.  
  
"This will clearly take us a while, for I want to hear each person's individual story. Unlike most of these times, I have a very dim idea of how this incident came about and I would like as many sides as possible." He turned around and led them down the stone hallway and to the gargoyle which served as the guardian of his office.  
  
"Gummie Bears," he said to the sentry. The gargoyle yawned deeply and leaped aside to reveal the spiral staircase. He turned to look at the company, licking his lips. "I've had the opportunity to sample this Muggle treat and I have to tell you, they beat the pants off of our Bertie Bott's." He winked and led them up the stairs.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron finished awkwardly and took a gigantic sip of his water. It was late afternoon, the sun shining its brightest through the window behind Dumbledore. He was sitting with his eyes closed, his elbows resting on his desk. His two pointer fingers were folded like a steeple with his chin resting on the tips. The four children sat in silence, each brooding individually on their own part.  
  
Each had heard a different side and each different side added more dimensions to the complicated last week. Both Hermione and Draco found it hard to talk about their time at the Manor, especially their brawl. Draco was amused to find out Harry and Ron's role in the story and no one could miss the grimace Ron tried to hide every time Draco or Hermione talked about their relationship. Dumbledore listened in silence the whole time, except for a few questions here and there to help piece together the four stories. When their stories merged into one they all talked, adding details the others had missed, Draco holding Hermione's hand the whole time.  
  
Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked at the four students sitting in front of him. "I just want to express how impressed I am at your bravery. I don't know if you realized it but three of you risked your lives to save another person who a week before you despised. It's very simple to run headfirst into a dilemma and fight on your own, but it's not easy to trust and work together, especially with past demons hovering over your head. That takes even more courage than facing a thousand dead walkers."  
  
"I beg to differ," Ron said meekly.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "I know my words sound fancy, but you'll soon realize that what you did was something not a lot of adults could have done. Lupin, for example, would never be accepted back into the real world because of distrust, when anyone with a brain can see he'd be very useful. Putting past differences behind you is one of the hardest things." He paused, letting his words sink in.  
  
"Where is Lupin?" Harry asked.  
  
"He went back to the Phoenix," Dumbledore said, turning towards Harry. "We can't spare many people for long there."  
  
"And my mother?" Draco asked.  
  
"How do you think I was there so quick?" Dumbledore said. "She knew that your father was doing and set out to warn us even before he left. She's fine and will be here tomorrow." He turned towards Hermione. "I would like to see something, if you wouldn't mind, Ms. Granger."  
  
Hermione stood up, slightly confused and enormously spent. "What?"  
  
"Although I've never known anyone personally who have played the Pipes of Ionracas, I have heard that it doesn't leave the user totally unmarred." He paused. "Correction: not marred, MARKED." He motioned Hermione over and next to his chair. "Please trust me in this." He gently turned over her hands, inspected her palms, her arms, her stomach, and her ankles. Harry, Ron, and Draco looked on in confusion as Hermione turned redder and redder.  
  
"I don't mean to be intruding, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said, "But only I know what to look for." He pulled back her hair and looked at the back of her neck. "Ah."  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, feeling with her hand at the back of her neck.  
  
"You can't feel it," Dumbledore said, looking more closely at the base of Hermione's neck.  
  
"Well, what is it?" Harry asked, getting up and peering over the desk at Hermione's neck. Ron and Draco joined him.  
  
"I feel like I'm on display," Hermione grumbled.  
  
On the base of Hermione's neck was a light brown tattoo that shimmered in the sunlight. The tattoo curved around in it itself, a never ending maze of curvy lines, the outside resembling almost the head of an animal.  
  
"It's a Celtic knot," Draco said.  
  
"Yes, but a specific one," Dumbledore said, letting Hermione's hair fall back into place. "This knot was put on the shields of warriors for protection and such. You've been, it seems, blessed."  
  
"By whom?" Hermione asked, going over to a mirror on the wall, trying to catch a glimpse of her mark.  
  
"Perhaps Dagda or perhaps Lugh. Both could provide protection; especially Lugh, who was a warrior himself." Dumbledore replied, getting a second mirror from his desk so Hermione could see the back of her neck. "Don't think I'm vain," he said sheepishly as he handed the mirror to Hermione.  
  
"But what does it mean?" Hermione asked, studying the mark.  
  
"For saving the lives of innocents, you've been protected." Dumbledore caught Hermione's words as she started to speak, "No, that doesn't mean you're invincible. It just means you're not entirely alone."  
  
"Wicked! You have a god watching over you!" Ron said. "Where do I sign up?"  
  
"Merlin, what will my mum say about this tattoo?" Hermione murmured.  
  
"I suspect she'll be very proud," Dumbledore said, smiling gently. Hermione smiled at her blessing in the mirror.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Well, I think it's hot," Draco said as they walked back from Dumbledores's office towards the Dining Hall for dinner.  
  
"Me too," Hermione said, reaching up and kissing Draco. They sat down next to Harry and Ron on one of the long benches at Gyffindor table. No one remarked that Draco was at the wrong table. Not even Ron stirred a finger to point it out.  
  
"So, what happened to the pipes?" Ron asked suddenly.  
  
They all turned to Hermione. They sat in silence for a few moments as Hermione's thought. "I.don't know," Hermione said.  
  
"Could you have dropped them?" Harry asked. "Perhaps we should go back and try to find them."  
  
"No, I think it's for the best," Hermione said, pushing her food around with her fork. "What would we have done with it anyway?"  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"So what happens next?" Ron asked softly. "We could never go back to normal." Draco squeezed Hermione's fingers and smiled.  
  
"But why should we try?" he asked softly. The four looked at each other and smiled, realizing now that as their adventure ended, another chapter of their life opened up. They ate in silence, their contentment and happiness lighting up the moment, feeling brighter as the sunlight streaming through the windows.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Cianán!"  
  
A boy ran up through the tall grass to join his friend.  
  
"Look what I found!"  
  
He reached down and picked up a strange instrument. It was a set of pipes, five black iron rods roped together.  
  
"Eww! It's all rusty!"  
  
"Well, I bet it's old!" Cianán said, taking the pipes from his friend. He put his mouth to the pipes and blew.  
  
"Hey, you don't know how to pla-," but his friend was cut off as a song came softly from the pipes; a wild, soaring song that reminded one of falling leaves and windy days.  
  
"Hey, I'm good!" Cianán remarked. The two boys ran off through the grass playing the pipes, the wind carrying the song through the air and across the moor into the sky...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: It has taken me almost a year to right this fiction, but not because it took that much effort, but because I'm really lazy! The story is over, but I'm adding one more chapter: The Thank You chapter. For all that reviewed I will try to give a thank you....shush now, I have no life. 


	21. Thank Yous

This fiction has taken about a year to write and throughout the process, the best part has always been getting reviews and feedback. So, since I have no life what-so-ever, I'm going to thank everyone who has given me a review. I wrote comments back to some people simply because those were the thoughts that ran across my mind.  
  
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God, these people gave me pure praise and made my day happier and lighter:  
  
T baby, Bloody Love, Hot-Angel1, Elsa, Offleewild1, Mikayla, Scholz03, *Karly*, Lionesse Le Fay, Saana, JaqFanatic, Chintamani, La Lucida Luna, Draco-FutureBF, FuMan Skeeto, Linda, Em* pathetic, Shiumi No Yume, Darkening Sky, Sylver-Ajah, Ashes Kittyhawk, FireGuardian, Bride of Malfoy, Befuzzled, Midnight Raven3, Moween, Camille, Emily, Dracosgurl_chrissy, The sreipper:Kitty  
  
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What would I do without the constructive criticism and funny comments? I would die, that's what! Here they are:  
  
Flexi Lexi: Ahhh, my first reviewer. Also one of my best friends and co- eater of chocolate. Thanks for being the first to review. Uhhh...see you Saturday!  
  
Apie: Yeah, Hermione DID have her teeth shrunken, but I'm bad at insults and pretended in my own mind she didn't for the sake of Draco's comeback. You'll see a lot of those throughout the fic. You rock for being perspective!  
  
Oil Pastel: You feel for my characters!! HURRAH! Thanks!  
  
Dan: I wrote more, see? Twenty chapters more.just for you too!  
  
KC Kee: Thanks for reviewing! And putting up with my brief e-mail updating system..that did NOT work by the by.  
  
Shi Maxwell: Hey, I LOVE your exclamation points!! They make me feel special! Novelization! Hee hee.  
  
The SimonCowel of Fanfiction: Simon?! I've pleased the most hard-to-please critic! HUTTAH!  
  
OceanGuardian: Thanks for giving me some more chances! Some people don't like a particular chapter and never come back! You're gold!  
  
SillyGreenGoose: YOUR PEN NAME ROCKS!!! And YOU rock for reviewing! Ha.I want a green goose.  
  
Reiven: Ahh, the confrontation with Lucius was my favorite to write, I think. I love his character. My next fic is about him.  
  
Dracosgurl: ME?! J.K. Rowling?! That's probably the best compliment I could get! Wow!  
  
Mad and Truly Insane Sab: Join out theater club! No, we don't have one, but I think it's cool that another theater person reads my fic.  
  
Spaced Out Space Cadet: One of my first regular readers! Thanks for ALL your reviews!! And I'm glad we're both on the same wave length with Rupert! ;-)  
  
Ami: Oh, you make me feel warm and squishy inside! Thanks for giving me a good review high! And Nasci Mortuus is stupid person Latin for "Raise Dead" because I don't know Latin and I used a weird translator thingy..so it's probably incorrect.  
  
Katy: Wow! Enthusiasm for me! Caps always make my day!  
  
Someone: Weak girls annoy me! Thanks for noticing! But I have to say, I went back and revised some chapters numerous times to make her stronger.  
  
Zahra: Another who thinks it's cool Draco is the weak one! You're awesome!  
  
VFoxy713: Never has another person put so much thought into my fiction. Much of your advice was stuff I agree with and hurried to fix. But a lot of it was a matter of opinion, so it's stuff I couldn't fix because I simply didn't agree with you. The way the characters act is completely up the author. Sure, some of it is unchangeable, like Dumbledore= good and Lucius= bad, but I think J.K. Rowling left spaces so we could think up stuff on our own. And that's what I did. But your advice helped a WHOLE lot and I thank you for it!  
  
ILUVRONWEASLEY: How can I write something so "emotional and sweet?" Uhhh, I wasn't aware I was that good! But if I was, it's because of reviewers like you! Ahhh, I love Ron Weasely too!  
  
Cyropi: Probably one of my most exciting reviews because I read your stories and Magnanimous is one of my all time favorite fics! Thank you!  
  
Aj: Hurrah for constructive criticism! Thanks for being a friend and pointing out something that made my fic a whole lot better after I changed it!  
  
Lisa Falcon: You rock my socks. Literally. They're rocking right now.  
  
Serpiente-oscura: Adriana! You rock! Rock rock rock rock rock! And I need to get working on those fan fiction subjects! God, I am so lazy!  
  
Norway : ALL THE WAY FROM NORWAY?! Sweet Jesus! Wow..wow.  
  
Elanore Malfoy-Black: "I!" Yes I agree with you all the way! Thanks for making me laugh my butt off!  
  
xXxEmeraldxXx: Again, another once of my regular readers. Thank you!  
  
Rhiannon-40: I LOVE when people ask me questions!! And I love answering them! Thankee!  
  
Nycegurl: Clouds rock! And saying "funner" rocks too! Huttah!  
  
Gracemis: Did you know my name is Grace too? Bizarre, no? So, you're now my new Grace review best friend! Woo hoo!  
  
Kara Black: Flying pony? With wings? Damn, I want one too!  
  
Lila: I am SO bad at tenses! You're right!  
  
Kou Shun'u: I think you're physic or something. Or maybe you're magic. Rain. Weird. I hope you're magic because then you can make Rupert Grint fall in love with me..can you do that for me?  
  
Chocol8skittle: God! I love Ron too! I had the BEST time writing him and I tried to find excuses to put him in the story! I have to admit, I wanted to get through some of the Draco and Hermione stuff so I could get Ron saying stuff! You're awesome!  
  
Sunna: Regular reader cheer! Hurrah! Hurrah!  
  
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Once again, thank you all so much! I love you all SOOOO much! Sooo much! SOOO so so so so so so much! 


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